I'm Scared Too: Act Two
by Magic Flying Spud
Summary: Kim Possible has officially switched sides. In certain circles, she is better known as Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson. Bent on taking over the world while simultaneously wanting to save it, she puts all of her efforts into running the Bermuda Triangle crime syndicate despite her growing depression.
1. Read My Lips

**TW:** mentions of self-harm

* * *

_"Dear Ron,_

_I'm in the car right now, I just saw Shego's distress beam from the mall and I don't know what to do with myself while we wait to get to you. God, I hope you're okay. _

_I'm really scared right now. Yori just tried to kill me, Shego's trying to kill you, and it's my fault, isn't it? I think she's mad at me. She's always trying to work me. _

_Everything is so messed up now. You probably hate me. I would if I was you. Like, seriously? 'Call me Kimberly?' Some best friend I turned out to be._

_You always tell me that you feel like you live in my shadow, well, I live in yours more than you think. You do need to grow up a little, but we're still young. I grew up too fast and I don't know what to do._

_Okay, we're here. I'll see you inside?_

_I Love You  
Somehow_

* * *

Big Daddy Brotherson rises from the couch in the lobby to properly shake the hand of the pharmaceutical CEO, John F. Milligan. Blond and towering, aged but still debonair, he smirks at the elephantine crime lord.

"Maurice," Milligan flashes those glimmering teeth, his posture erect.

"John," Big Daddy says with some warmth, reeling Milligan away from his office and into what will by estimation be a five minute walk and talk.

So John F. Milligan's back is turned when three shadows crawl out from behind the furniture and zip through the closing door and into the gargantuan office.

**Gilead Sciences Headquarters Executive Office: Foster City, California  
January 17, 2008: 10:00AM**

Three thugs: Rhino, Mugsy, and Vinny.

Rhino, a man big enough to eat for two, bald with a goatee, pulls a revolver from his trench-coat and aims it at Milligan's First Executive Assistant, who suppresses a yelp and throws her hands in the air.

Mugsy, a ginger bearded thug with a chain smoker's voice, and Vinny, a rat-like man who also sounds like a rat, tilt their fedoras past their eyes and duck under Milligan's desk, hands frantically smashing through the cabinets, yanking out whole reams of papers at once.

"Vinny, be careful wit' dat," Mugsy spits over his shoulder. "Da boss ain't gonna like a mess like dat."

"Eeeeeeeeeeeh," Vinny drawls with the whine of Bugs Bunny. "Shaddup, Mugsy!"

Rhino's beetle black eyes turn from his team over to the assistant. His finger quivers under the trigger and after a tense few seconds, he lets it all out in one massive sigh. Throwing his hands to his knees, he stuffs the gun back into his coat. "Eh, who am I kidding?"

Vinny's head shoots past the top of the desk. "Rhino, what are you — "

Mugsy's rough hand slaps over Vinny's trap, silencing him. "Ey, why dontcha let Rhino do his job, okay?"

Rhino's sausage-like fingers rumple his coat until he procures two slips of papers. "I have it on good authority that you like hip hop."

The assistant raises an eyebrow, while both Vinny and Mugsy break their composure and begin to mouth expletives that if given volume would likely be shrill.

Rhino hushes the two and hands the tickets over. "I checked your Spotify, okay? Anyways, one is a flight to New York on March 9th. The other is first row seats to see _In the Heights_ on opening night, ya get? You'll love it, dis Lin Manuel-Miranda guy, he's gonna be bigger than hula hoops one day I swear. And it's all courtesy of da boss."

The assistant scans the room for some time and finally turns the other cheek, blocking her view of the goons with her hand. Rhino crosses his arms defiantly, winking at the red-faced goons who then dive back into the cabinet.

Mugsy wipes his forehead. "Y'know, I kinda just want to shoot someone. This espionage stuff makes me feel like I don't even work for Big Daddy, more like — uh — more like —

* * *

" — working for Jack Hench?"

"Hm? Ah, yes yes. Hench is great. You know me, always backing the front runner, right?"

**Gilead Sciences Headquarter Grounds: Foster City, California  
January 17, 2008: 10:00AM**

Hank Perkins tilts his chin and throws on the toothiest of grins. Meanwhile, the realtor raises an eyebrow very high, _very_ intently staring down Hank's possible poker face. Finally, the realtor groans and turns away. "Thought I heard something else."

Hank immediately lets loose a sigh of relief, hands quickly loosening his tie just enough to breathe a little better; he's supposed to be better at this. Perhaps he's a little bitter. Because he _only_ works for front runners — which this one exception.

"The thing I don't get is," the realtor grunts, looking up at the beautiful building. Sparkling tiled walls, building curved like a Z with a fine swing of an elegant curve, it's modern but tasteful. "Why would a guy like Hench want to buy this property? He's always been a sky high guy, we're only six stories."

Hank shrugs. He really wishes that brat didn't put him up to this. "Not sure, could I see those blueprints by the way?"

"What for? You're not buying are you?"

Hank assumptively throws out one tanned hand. "Well I just want a sense of scale…"

The realtor strokes his chin. "If I didn't know any better, Perkins, I'd say you've — "

* * *

" — you've been kinda off-the-grid lately, huh?"

**Gilead Sciences Headquarters Hallway: Foster City, California  
January 17, 2008: 10:03AM**

Big Daddy turns his head over to Milligan and processes that for a moment. That is true. Especially lately. Makes a good transition for him though. His maw presses tightly into a wide smile.

"And you've managed to capture quite the limelight," he says.

Milligan pauses at that, face briefly scrunching up. "Yeah, I was hoping to avoid that."

Big Daddy pushes a bit further. "You planning on — "

" — a conference, yes. I'm not an idiot, I know how these things work. I don't want to react _too_ fast though if you know what I mean." He pivots on the heels of his shoes, hands in his pockets. "_It'll be on the 23rd_."

Big Daddy's eyes widen within the span of a flash; he forgot how satisfying it is to do good field work. Too much lounging on bean bag chairs and silly games can do that to you. While Milligan saunters backwards, Big Daddy turns away and grabs his ear piece…

Milligan meanwhile continues yapping. "How's this for a first line by the way? _Thank you for gathering _—_ "_

" — _here today, I'm sure you all already know what this is about… _no, I don't ya palooka. Talk about a coy sonuva — "

* * *

"Gimme dat!"

**Gilead Sciences Headquarters Executive Office: Foster City, California  
January 17, 2008: 10:05AM**

Mugsy pulls the piece of paper past his nose, eyes scrunched up as he breezes through the literature. After a few tense seconds, he thwacks Vinny on the head and rolls the paper up, lobbing it across the room. "Think fast Rhino!"

Rhino lunges forward and snatches it from the ear, briefly clenching his teeth. "Careful! Now you fellas reset the desk real quick while I copy this thing…"

Mugsy grins and brings his index finger to his earpiece…

Vinny's fingers twitch at the site of the mess of papers scattered everywhere. "'Dis ain't in my job description, no way, no how, am I — "

* * *

" — keeping anything from you."

"Oh c'mon, Perkins, you're being _very_ coy. What do you really want?"

"Coy? _Tsch!_ Please. I am direct."

**Gilead Sciences Headquarter Grounds: Foster City, California  
January 17, 2008: 10:03AM**

With some hesitance hanging on, the realtor finally passes the blueprints over to Hank. "I just swear you were bumming out in Paris a few months ago looking for a new place to build a Bermuda Triangle for that Big Daddy guy after the old got wrecked by that Kim Possible kid…"

Hank's head jerks up, eyes foggy with all _the numbers and measurements he has to memorize off this stupid thing_. "That is true, and exactly why I gave up on Big Daddy early on. Call me a vulture, but like I said, always backing the frontrunner."

The realtor crosses his arms in amusement. "But they're totally separate fields, Perkins."

"I know," Hank says with some pep. He presses a finger to his ear. "But you mess up on a job I'm doing for you? Consider yourself..."

* * *

"_Done."_

* * *

"_Done."_

* * *

"_Done."_

* * *

Shining black flats click clack across the wooden floor, arms swinging. When a chorus of "_Done."_ splinters through her earpiece, she allows herself a smirk before taking a seat. Dressed to the nines, wrapped in an onyx black three-piece suit, with a stiff black blouse and a tie that matches her hair, Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson has never looked better.

Or rather…

_Kim Possible_ has never looked better.

**Los Angeles LGBT Center: Los Angeles, California  
January 17, 2008: 10:04AM**

Kim runs a hand through her bob-cut, brushing auburn locks from her eyes, briefly highlighting the bald spot shaved into the right side of her head. The same hand falls and meets with an older man's, and she takes a seat across him in a vacant room.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Holleran," Kim grins.

"Pleasure's all mine."

Andrew Holleran is a community organizer at the Los Angeles LGBT Center, and runs a weekly support group for those who have lost loved ones through HIV. His eyes are kind, but the lines under them say that warmth is a battle for him to hold onto.

"I am a little confused as to why you visited," he says in a warm, _therapy_ kind of voice. "I understand you're a member of the _community_ now…"

Kim frowns.

"... but being bisexual is a little different from this," Mr. Holleran folds his hands together below his grin, not needing to explain anymore. "Are you looking for a support group?"

Kim's spine tenses, falling along the straight back of the chair. Her jaw clenches and for a moment, she's tongue tied, eyes glazing over.

Without moving, she murmurs it, "_No_," jaw tightening fast.

She is supposed to be working on identifying her anxious tells so she can change gears before she snaps into a rage, and this time she actually catches it. Her mouth opens wide, loosening the tension, and she smiles. "I'm here because of a rapid response campaign."

Mr. Holleran leans back. "I'm assuming you're talking about John F. Milligan boosting the prices on the drugs our community needs."

"Yes," Kim says curtly. "This is a big ask so you can obviously say no. But Los Angeles is one of the biggest cities in the country, and you're the one tying all these people impacted by HIV together."

Mr. Holleran blinks. She's not wrong. He gestures to the side of the cramped room, where metal chairs and tables are folded in stacks. A little scrappy for the biggest LGBT center in the world, but again: Kim's not wrong. "I don't know if I can pull the whole community together for you…"

"We're dying," Kim says with some gravitas. Her heart beat skips a step though; it doesn't feel genuine to talk about _community_ when she herself still feels closeted. But Mr. Holleran misses that moment, too overwhelmed by his own share of anxiety.

Mr. Holleran scratches his head. "Are you planning a march?"

She wags her finger. "No. Are you familiar with Act Up?"

He nods.

"Remember the action they staged in front of the White House during the Bush administration?"

Mr. Holleran's eyes widen, but he does smile.

Kim grins from ear to ear. "We have six days."

* * *

"You'll never catch me alive, Ron Stoppable! Nyuck nyuck nyuck!"

"Dude, I'm like about to nail you — also that evil laugh thing's gotta stop."

**A Villain's Evil Getaway Path to Further Villainy: The Pacific Ocean  
January 23, 2008: 2:30PM**

Ron's stomach skims against a wave and icy tides splatter against his wetsuit. He grimaces, managing to keep his arms outstretched evenly. He swerves from side to side, hang gliding web catching the air between his arms, and he follows the swaying movement of the getaway speedboat. Kim would be proud to see him in hot pursuit like this.

After swallowing another mouthful of salt water, he smacks against the water's surface and like a well-tossed rock, skips ahead, chin just passing over the sputtering engine. He bites his lip and throws his arms forward, snagging onto the wooden lip of the boat. His body slaps against the water, and white rapids cascade into his face.

It's easy to let go. He could just let Yori handle it, she is already heading him off from the East.

But no, Ron can't do that. Not anymore. Especially when Yori is technically just a temp for the newly revived Team Possible.

He growls something fierce and kicks himself up and over, landing besides the mustache twirling villain. Dripping wet, Ron brushes his cowlick out of the way and assumes a fighting stance. He tries to speak, but is too pale and out of breath for a good quip. So the villain takes the lead on the ol' runaround.

"Ah, my arch-rival! Ronald Kennedy Stoppable! We meet again...for the last time!"

"Dude, we've never met."

For once, it is actually really annoying to hear a villain say his full name.

The villainous villain licks his lips and pulls a revolver out from under his jacket, aiming it at Ron's heart. "Your last arch-nemesis turned into a rock, so you'll have to deal with me now!"

"Actually my arch-nemesis is my ex-girlfriend. Sorry dude but you gotta get in line!" Ron eyes the gun, making sure to take slow breaths, especially with his rapidly beating chest so visible behind the skintight ensemble.

The gun clicks. "No. No lines for me!"

Ron closes his eyes and finds a happy place; it happens to be Bueno Nacho. He smiles because he is a low maintenance boy with a lot of lived happiness, and his magic works best when he's thinking about the cheesy goodness underneath that giant sombrero.

There is a _bang!_ but it doesn't worry him. Ron's eye snap back open, glowing blue. The already fired bullet spins haplessly, only inches away from the barrel.

Ron's hand lashes out and curls around where the bullet is about to drift and he squeezes. The lead bumps against his palm and while it struggles to escape his grasp, it is no use and he stops the thing in its tracks. He calmly folds his arm in and with the flick of his thumb, flips the bullet in the air. "Heads or tails?"

"Um — " the villain is speechless.

Ron smirks and throws one foot forward, pivoting his whole body against his waist and flips a backhand right into the wannabe's face, sending him tumbling to the floor. The boat rocks and waves splash in, drizzling the downed scoundrel in sea water. Ron grins again and bring both fists together, raising them over his head and —

"Stoppable-san! Snap out of it!"

Ron blinks and it is as if someone pulled a fully extended car jack out; his spine crumples inward and he collapses against the bow. He blinks a few more times and collects himself, pacing to the rear and turning off the engine as Yori circles back for him. When the Sensei-To-Be climbs aboard, the villain is already cuffed and secured.

Yori takes one fast look at the bright pink palm print on the villain's unconscious face and thwaps Ron across the forehead with two fingers. "You don't want a repeat of last time do you?"

"No," Ron rubs his head.

_Beep-beep-de-beep!_

"You need to chill out and figure out how you're going to overcome this if you aren't going to work for Sensei," Yori reaches into Ron's belt and plucks out the Kimmunicator; she has yet to receive her own yet. "Which I get by the way, I'm not criticizing you for doing your own thing. One sec — hey Wade, what is the sitch?"

"What is _the_ sitch?" Ron repeats, trying to make a big ol' scene. "It's _what'__**sssssssss**_ the sit—"

Wade looks up from his computer and frowns. "We've got sightings on Kim."

Ron leans into view. "Oh great, on the same day that we reactivated the site. It's probably some revenge — "

"Probably a coincidence, Ron," Wade says. "Though keeping it as _kimpossible dot com_ is still kinda weird."

Yori throws an accusatory look Ron's way.

Ron blushes. "Well, uh, I don't know, Team Possible sounds a lot more positive than Team Stoppable right? Um — okay! So maybe I have hang-ups!"

"Woof," Wade sighs. "Anyways, Kim was caught in Foster City, California trying to erase some security camera footage at Gilead Industries."

"Ironic," Yori titters. "She never was that stealthy."

"Could be she wanted to get caught, I dunno," Wade shrugs it off. "But the CEO is not-so-coincidentally doing a speech tonight at 7pm."

Yori furrows her brow. "We're on it."

Ron groans in the back, muttering something about how she's just a temp.

They both ignore it. Wade nods. "By the way, do some reading on who this CEO guy is — it's all over the news."

"Ugh, can you just send the deets, Wade?" Ron moans.

"No, sorry, I have some freelance for Global Justice to do. You got it, college boy."

Wade signs out and Yori drops the Kimmunicator into Ron's limp hand. That same hand folds into a fist against his chest, and it squeezes tight.

Yori reaches over and settles his knuckle to his thigh. He takes in a deep breath. "Time to see how serious Kim is about this villainy thing."

* * *

Ashes so deep and so expansive that at first glance you could mistake them for gravel. When the wind picks up, the soot pours out like smoke. Kim throws herself over the lip of the stone trough and uses her body to ward off the horrible wind.

Any minute now, John F. Milligan will start his little speech to the people. Explaining why it's okay for him to hike up the prices. Little does he know, he's about to get ousted. Mugsy and Vinny already rigged the sound system so Kim can take it over at any given moment, though she is specifically waiting for a cue. That's how these things work, at least from what she can tell. First time for everything and all that.

The wind settles down, but Kim hangs across the trough a moment longer than needed. After running through the script in her head again, she catches herself and straightens up, immediately noticing the ash that has thoroughly dusted her blazer. She tries smacking it off. "Damn."

There's some sweat on her forehead. It's not hot or anything, she's just nervous. She runs a hand against the sweat, but it catches with the ash and becomes this gross gray muck all too similar toher high school's mystery meat.

She's being silly, there's really nothing to worry about.

The hardest step already went down: drawing attention to herself by deleting the footage of Mugsy, Vinny, and Rhino sneaking around from a week ago. So floored by the appearance of an international celebrity like herself, she was able to pull all eyes onto her. Meanwhile, a helicopter with a stealth device flew in. Her team quickly assembled the stone trough along the rooftop and loaded it with ash.

Now she's here. Ready to go. Ready to win and make history.

"Hey KP."

Oh, that's just _perfect_.

**Gilead Sciences Headquarters: Foster City, California  
January 23, 2008: 7:03PM**

A shudder runs up her spine and she pivots to face the two; she hasn't seen Ron ever since what happened with Shego, but this scenario has run through her mind so many times now that she already knows what to do. Her hands pull from her pockets and arc into the air before clenching behind her head.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she says far too quickly, voice particularly frosty. Ron is too hard to make eye contact with, so she keeps him in her peripherals and looks to Yori.

Ron leans back and readies himself for combat. Yori rolls her eyes and twirls her staff.

"That's not what you told me a month ago," Ron growls. "I don't understand what you're doing, KP, but it's not gonna happen."

Ron's eyes follow the trough which snakes across the width of the building. Three separate towers arranged in a Z formation, the trough split off into twenty five different troughs all angled down like slides, just peeking over the precipice.

"It's just direct nonviolent action. Trust me," Kim clips, wrists pressing her head, fingers digging past the blouse collar. "Ron. We seriously don't have to do this."

Ron twitches and opens his mouth, but Yori brashly interrupts him. "Possible-san, both hands in the air now."

Kim grins hokily. "I just have a bad itch — "

"Kim, don't be stupid," Ron snips. "You're not going to _Die Hard_ us."

Her hands stretch high into the sky, spreading wide in a showman-ish kinda way. "See? Just an itch, now amp down."

But what they don't see is the black remote that twirls from her palm to her knuckle, and slips down the sleeve.

"Kim," Ron sniffles. "If this isn't illegal — then why don't you explain what you're doing? I'll listen, I promise."

Does he promise though? He's talking to her like he would any other common super villain. Is that all she is to him now? Did it fall apart that fast?

"_Thank you for gathering here today, I'm sure you all already know what this is about…"_

Kim nods very slowly, eyes crawling back to the gathered crowd below. "I would — but we're running out of time. Speech just started."

"That's not suspicious at all," Yori snaps.

"Kim," Ron takes one step forward, hands splayed high like Kim's just were. "Please. Don't do it. Don't kill that guy — he's dirt but there's better ways. Murder is not one of them."

"I'm not going to kill him — like — " Kim pinches the bridge of her nose. " — I recognize why you think I would do that. I guess. But this isn't what you think it is. This isn't what I do."

Yori angles the staff so that she can hypothetically jab it at a surprise lunge. "She's full of shit, Ron. Look at her."

Ron frowns, scratches his neck, lets Yori take the lead. He turns away. "Kim, I'm really sorry but after everything that's happened…"

Kim grimaces. "Ron, you're the killer not me."

Ron winces and Yori lunges. Great.

"Stop right there!" Kim shouts, dropping the remote control from her sleeve, the device slipping into her hand. She holds it in the air and points at the big flashing button. "Don't you move a muscle. I'm waiting until John F. Milligan says '_We're saving lives'_ in his little diatribe down there, but you push me any further and I will press that button now."

Ron and Yori exchange a look, and in that brief lapse, Kim darts at Yori. Yori snarls and matches Kim, swinging the staff at Kim.

Kim bobs in and out with each swipe, narrowly avoiding the blows. Left and right she goes, the remote sliding back into her sleeve. Yori goes for a jab at the chest and Kim's body swings backwards, spine running almost perpendicular to her firmly planted legs.

Kim's right foot kicks up while the staff is still overheard, and hooks on. She swings her entire body into the air, switching feet mid-flight, laughing like a little kid. Once the left foot clicks against the pole, her right foot unfurls itself, winds around her whole body, and nails Yori in the jaw.

Blood gushes from Yori's mouth and she releases her hold on the staff. Yori trails fingers through the crimson and lunges again. This time Kim is prepared with the staff and smacks the wood against Yori's bare palms. Another swing to the head and Yori's limp body crashes hard against the gravel.

"What happened to non-violent direct action?!" Ron nearly claws off his cranial skin. "Do you know how hard it is to defend you?!"

Kim eyes Ron very seriously. Her heart beats fast, her throat tightening. She feels like she's supposed to say something emotionally vulnerable to him or something. But it's not until she finds his eyes that she remembers. Remembers what he did to Shego, how he so carelessly murdered her, how he so carelessly did _everything_.

And he stands there as if he's the good guy.

"Y'know," Kim starts but then quickly throws up a finger, tilting her head back towards the crowd below.

"_The increased profit from my decision to raise the price on our PrEP and PEP programs will allow us to develop even more life saving medicines…"_

"Still got time," Kim murmurs and looks over to Ron. "Y'know Ron, when we worked together, despite the fact that everyone shoved you off to the side, I always viewed you as my partner. But right now? With what I just saw between you and Yori? I get what they saw in you… _Sidekick._

Ron's face flashes beet red and his eyes go blue.

Kim cracks another smirk but some unknown force snags her jaw and clamps it shut, an invisible fist nailing her in the throat. Ron glitches through reality and warps to the spot right before her. He launches himself into a flurry of punches, one that she yelps at. She raises the staff and tries her best to keep up, but by the eighth punch Ron's got enough juice and his hand smashes through Kim's only defense.

Kim growls and tosses the two splintered ends of wood off to the side and moves in with a series of kicks, but it's nothing Ron hasn't seen before and he avoids it. From several feet away, he punches at the air. Each swing tears through the air and leaves behind a trail of blue, and the blue just lingers there. Like glitches.

Kim tries to not let her jaw drop at the sight of it; when did he get so powerful? Is this how he was against Shego? Is he really in control? Or is he going to succumb to it like Will did?

Ron stops to catch his breath, while the blue marks spiral through the air and dart at Kim. She jumps from heel to heel, evading as many of the blasts as she can, but one still strikes her kneecap. She falls forward and another nails her in the stomach, shredding a hole in the blouse. Blood leaks through.

It's the first blood to ever cross the two of them and the moment is not lost on either party.

It is deathly quiet for a moment where the two stare at each other and Kim's fearful eyes find nothing in Ron's but contempt. "Ron, what did I do to you?"

Ron doesn't say a damned thing. It's so quiet she can hear the tinkling sound of sand. Grain by grain. Sand? She turns her head and it turns out one of the blasts knocked a hole into her trough, and now the ash is spilling out. She gnashes her teeth and somersaults back, landing on top of the trough and stuffing the hole with her blazer. She looks up at Ron, her face as red as Ron's.

"Do you have any idea whose ashes these are you idiot?!" Kim screams and it's not until that ugly sound leaves her throat that she notices the clenching of her jaw. She was supposed to catch the tell and stomp it out. Guess she failed her therapy assignment…

A cackle leaves Kim's lips, a laugh she doesn't even understand. She can't control it. "You — _you_ have all the power in the world — and you can't even take care of someone like _me_?!"

Ron's eyes narrow. Then pain.

Kim gags as invisible fingers press tightly into her throat. Her head throttles forward, Ron's grip pulling her through the air, shining shoes dragging against the edge of the trough in protest. But she clearly doesn't stand a chance and soon her feet haplessly kick about like a child mid-tantrum. She tries opening her mouth to scream but an aura of blue jams her mouth open and encases her head like a bubble.

Ron smiles and even from yards away, he can see the imprint of his thumb on her neck; her pulse is slowing. He feels it writhe under his fingertips.

He watches as her mouth widens in anguish, watches as her eyes cloud in fear, and then he stops watching. He looks away and squeezes harder.

"You're just like him now," Kim tries to hiss through the asphyxiation. She remembers the phantasmal Ron she encountered in New Hampshire, the one that turned out to just be a construct of Sensei's, the man who groped her and forced himself on her. But the sounds don't come, can't come, because she can't breathe.

Black flickers over her vision and her body starts to sag under her like it doesn't want to even try anymore. She tries to find Ron's eyes but it's not possible with him looking off into the distance.

" — _we're saving lives_ — "

… right. The _work_.

Kim's eyes snap wide open and the remote falls into her fingers. She smashes the button and immediately John F. Milligan's microphone cuts out and a high-pitched banshee scream blasts through the speakers.

Those three words repeat on the speakers in loop, louder than ever. Smashing and echoing into each other.

"_We're saving lives."_

Another press of the button, and the twenty five holes open in the trough and instantaneously gravity does its work. The ashes shift and slip down the chutes. All across the front of the building, ashes cascade down like waterfalls. It splatters against the ground and kicks back up into the air, veiling everything in gray. An all consuming mist.

No one screams, no one says a damned word. Until Kim steps forward.

Ron double takes at her standing over the edge of the building like that; he must have lost his concentration when the demonstration started. He takes one step forwards but then she starts talking, and her words, her voice, cut into him from all sides.

"Those are the ashes of the thousands of men and women who died during the AIDS epidemic. I am lucky to have been able to pool resources from the LGBT communities in Los Angeles, New York, and San Francisco. I am honored and humbled to have access to all that. And there is more where that came from, John. Yes. John F. Milligan. I am talking to you."

Kim pauses to catch her breath and roll back the shoulders. She pulls the blouse free from the belt at least, and rolls up her sleeves. Might help with the imaging. More rough and tumble queer than smooth dyke.

"You raised the price of life saving drugs like Truvada and Tenofovir by 5500%. I don't expect you to know this since you were born with a silver spoon, but our community is broken. This is an act that can actually kill us."

Ron steps away from Kim timidly, scanning the sky for cameras or anything of the sort. Yori rushes past him and he grabs her, managing to hold her back. "Let's see where this goes," he wheezes, but mostly he feels too ashamed to try again.

"We survived the plague twenty years ago," Kim tilts her chin up, amazed at how her voice owns the whole space. It's power. Actual, tangible power. "But now you decide to finish us off, but that will not happen."

People begin to cheer and down below security detail swarms Milligan.

"You _will _change the prices back to the original. You _will_ listen to our voices," Kim booms like thunder. "I am casting a curse on you, John."

Ron's heart has just about stopped. _This_ is the girl he nearly strangled to death.

Kim brushes the hair from her eyes and wraps it up. "If you do not do the right thing, then — you yourself may be buried in a tomb of gold — but our spirits will haunt you. Even in death, you will remember us. Thank you."

The second Kim's face is turned away from the public eye, she lets loose a breath that visibly sags her body. It looks like she was just crying, even though no tears came out. Bt she snaps back into focus and remembers she still has to deal with _Team Possible_. She offers a quick salute to both Ron and Yori, a dark glimmer in her eyes.

Ron steps forward. "K-Kim — th-that was beau-beautiful. Why didn't you just tell us?"

Her face falls. "I didn't think you'd believe me."

Ron wants to say more, but the doors behind them crash open and the police storm in. Immediately, and admittedly surprisingly, Kim raises her hands high into the air and lets them take her. Something protective flares inside of Ron — even though he knows he has no right to just turn back to her side again — but he also feels someone grabbing his wrists too. "Hey! Dude! I'm one of the good guys."

"A little black and white for my tastes, but it's true," Kim quips. "Ron's not with me anymore."

The officer promptly releases him, not noticing the little bug that Ron just planted on his wrist. The same cop moves over to Kim with his gun raised.

"Miss Possible — raise your hands in the — oh. Uh. Cool. Well," a cop stumbles over, gun drooping like a wilted flower, and slaps the handcuffs on Kim. "You have — "

" — the right to remain silent, I know," Kim smirks and lets her hands gracefully fall to her waist. "I won't be needing an attorney, I'm looking forward to chatting further at the police station."

* * *

"I can't believe this Milligan guy really thought it was okay to boost the prices like that."

"At some point he knew it was wrong, that speech was just part of the classic grief cycle: denial."

"Yeah — still, it should be illegal to do that…"

"Oh, of course it should be, officer…that's why I did it."

"And those were really ashes of HIV victims?"

"Mhm. If you go on my website, kimpossible dot com, you'll actually find the list of every participating party, as well as a petition pushing for a law to be passed that has been signed by their families."

**Foster City Police Department: Foster City, California  
January 23, 2008: 9:32PM**

Ron jumps up from his headset and bangs his head against the little cardboard box nook he set up besides the police station. "Wade!" he whines.

"On it. Um. Um. Oh. Oh shoot. Yeah. She's not lying — she overwrote our site."

"Well — well — um — overwrite it back!" Ron jeers.

"Ron — our site's an HIV victims memorial right now — might be in bad taste."

Ron twitches and sags, collapsing back into his spot. What a day. A full hour listening to Kim's conversation with the cop and not once do the boys in blue mention breaking and entering, or the violence that Kim enacted on Yori. No. They're pleased as punch, just talking about the _issues._

It's not fair.

Ron can't even hear the clinking of handcuffs. At some point, he even thinks he hears a cereal bowl slide across the table. Yes. That's cereal alright, and there's a whole thing when they give her regular milk and sheepishly asks if they have almond.

Ron slouches and pulls his jacket in tighter. It's cold.

"Anyways — " a cop says. "Miss Possible, you did break the law by trespassing but I think given the circumstances, we are willing to overlook it. You did the right thing."

Ron's jaw drops and he pounds the back of his neck, shuffling to the entrance of the police station, Nothing productive will happen now. He shuffles to the entrance and waits for Kim to come out.

That takes ten full minutes. He counts them all. One by one. God, this is ridiculous. How do these people not get it? Don't activist get jailed all the time?

Activist…

Kim is an _activist_. What happened to that whole uh… erm…

"_I hope that we can be on the same side, but for right now — we have different visions. And we might end up on opposing sides very soon and when that does happen — I will not hesitate in taking you out."_

Right. Yeah. That thing. Something doesn't make sense.

Kim exits the prison doors with an extra large peacoat balancing off of her shoulders. There is a soft glow to her face but the moment her eyes fall on Ron, it's gone. "Whatever it is you want me to say, you already eavesdropped on me for the past hour and heard everything, so leave me alone."

Ron sputters something unintelligent and Kim continues, "Puh-lease. I can spot one of Wade's bugs from a mile away." She brushes past the boy and looks down at her smartphone — since when did Kim have one of those?

"Listen," Ron grabs her shoulder. Bad idea, she instinctively flinches. Like a scared cat. He's not sure if it's because of him, or because of what Shego did to her. He steps back. "Shit, Kim, I'm sorry I hurt you — "

"Ron, you _choked_ me," Kim fiddles with her wrist, fist rocking from side to side. "You were trying to actually kill me."

"Well, I'm sorry, I misunderstood what was happening and — "

"Yeah, like with Shego?" Kim shoots a cold look at him. But before he can respond, her eyes fall. "That's not fair, sorry. She blew up the mall, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Ron says tonelessly.

"I can't talk about Shego right now, Ron, I'm sorry. I'm not strong enough for it, I-I gotta go — "

Ron raises an eyebrow. "Why? You working or something?"

She looks back and snorts. "No, I'm actually — nevermind. Just… nevermin—oh shit."

"Shit?" Ron bites his lip. Serious face moment but Kim swearing is innately very funny.

Kim bows her head and checks her phone. Without looking at Ron, she takes a seat on the lower step. Ron follows suit on a higher level. "My bus gets here in two minutes," Kim says. "That's how long you have."

Ron pulls a rolled up piece of paper from his utility belt and unfolds it. "Kim, this letter you wrote to me before — um — everything… did you really mean it?"

She doesn't need to reread it to remember. "Yes, I meant every word."

Ron gulps something down. "I don't understand."

"I don't either."

"You hate me, don't you?"

Kim's face turns past the mane of red. "No, of course not — I — I love you. Well. I don't know, I'm disappointed in you I guess."

"I am too," Ron slips down a few steps and lands besides her. "With myself, yeah, but you too… I think. What you just did was badical but I don't — like — I thought you were gonna be a bad guy. I don't get you at all anymore."

"It's complicated," she turns away. Every word makes her feel so much more fatigued. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Um," Ron chokes. "Are you — um — still c-cutting?"

She bristles at the word. "No. I don't want to talk about that either. Not after how you insulted me last time I..."

He scratches his head. "What can we talk about?"

"I don't know, I guess we both laid it all out on the table that day, huh?" she frowns. "I — I want to be friends but I don't think we can anymore. I mean — do you seriously understand that you almost just killed me?"

"I would've let go," he spits back.

She shakes her head. "I don't believe you, I'm sorry. I don't even know why I'm still sitting next to you."

A silence falls between them again.

"It's 'cuz you're stuck with me waiting for your bus," Ron shrugs and Kim snorts. He fights off a grin. "What line you taking by the way? Because F-Y-I, this college boy can't afford no Uber and was gonna take the 162."

"Oh," Kim giggles. "224."

"Phew!" Ron laughs and promptly receives a punch to the arm.

He turns his head to her. "I still love you too, ya know. I think that's what makes it harder when we face off like that."

Kim's fingers run along her arms like a pianist. She shuts her eyes for a long time and draws in a deep breath. There is a list. Targets. Drakken was proud of her for already having a list. And at the tippity top of it was Master Sensei.

One of her many abusers.

She can't forget about the _work_.

"Do you still do what Sensei tells you to?" Kim's voice prickles like crackling ice leaving the freezer.

"Um. Yeah?" Ron raises an eyebrow. "Why? Should I not?"

Kim nods very slowly, lets her hair fall past her eyes. She should remind him. Remind him of the horrible things that man did to her. She shouldn't have to remind him, she's sure he just stuffed it away as irrational along with everything else she said that day. He probably still thinks she's just some crazy bitch. Maybe Ron doesn't care, maybe he just shrugs off the nuance. Considering how softly he handles talking about actual murder… she doesn't know if could handle him telling her the truth.

She blurts it out. "I guess I don't trust you."

She doesn't sound angry. More confused than anything.

The _work _says that Sensei needs to die, but as long as Ron Stoppable defends him as a safeguard, Sensei will have to wait…

It's confusing. She's supposed to _kill_ people. Like Hench. Director. Those folks. But the _work_ also begs her to do things like save people with HIV from dying. Somehow, it all ties together into one cohesive plan. She knows that. She knows it will come together, it just doesn't have a unifier yet. But she can figure it out.

As much as Shego hated her, she told Kim that she can do _anything_.

"Kim," Ron speaks with the same fear that Kim carries. "What are you doing? Like — you found out who you really are, right? That whole self-discovery, doing what you really want to do thing?"

Kim blinks. "Huh?"

"College, remember?" Ron blushes. "I thought — that was why we broke up."

"No."

"_No_? But then, why did we — Kim!"

White light illuminates the step and floods over the two. Kim jumps to her feet and sticks a hand in the air, running up to the curb. The bus thankfully sees her and slows to a halt, and the door slides open.

Kim turns back and her eyes are wide.

"You would laugh at me if I told you what I really wanted."

All Ron can do now is wave.

* * *

"So… does anyone have any updates they wanted to share?"

"Hi! Hey everyone — sorry I'm late."

"Kim! So glad you could make it."

**Foster Area Self-Harm Support: Foster City, California  
January 23, 2008: 10:02PM**

Kim drapes the peacoat over the back of her steel folding chair and looks around the room. Mostly girls, all around her age. None of them have their bare arms fully exposed. She feels a little sad because one of her new friends apparently isn't here tonight. People not showing up to group is rare enough to warrant attention, because it sometimes leads to something scary. So Kim makes a mental note to text her friend at the first opportunity.

"Hey everyone. I'm Kim," she greets everyone and somehow manages to run out of breath on that alone. She is talking too fast again. "I'm—from—Mid—dle—ton—Col—o—rad—o." she giggles. No one gets her little joke. "Heh. Um. Yeah. This week has been — " she rubs the pink creases along her neck. " — not good."

The group leader gestures over to Kim. "Well, tell us about it. If you're comfortable with it."

Kim gulps. She was hoping she wouldn't have to say anything tonight, it would have been nice to just sit back and listen to other people's problems. But now all eyes are on her and she has to fess up to what she did. Her lip quivers and her knuckles rattle against each other, pulling taut and white.

"I — I started cutting again."

* * *

**_A/N:_** Thank you so much for reading! I love this story and I'm excited to share it with you.

For those who don't know, _I'm Scared Too_ was originally a 45 chapter story, but I stopped at Chapter 41 recently and decided to reboot from Chapter 25 forward because I had way too many ideas for things I wish I did earlier.

So some chapters, like this one, will be heavily edited and revised versions of older chapters. Others (like the next chapter) will be completely new and fresh. Aaaagh I'm so excited.

This story gets very graphic with mental health things and some real world things, so I will do my best to tag things with warnings at the tippity top.

Some of what Kim says in her speech to John F. Milligan is inspired by this beautiful eulogy held by the activist group, Act Up. You can watch it in the documentary _How to Survive a Plague_. It's a movie that changed my life and set me up where I am now.

Thanks pals.


	2. Rebirth Pt 1

TW: sexual assault, body horror, dysphoria

This is a very difficult chapter to read, and also one that was very difficult for me to write. As a non-binary trans person. Doing my best here, I hope that you can feel some strength from this. Because Kim is going to get through this. Additionally, this chapter is a two-parter. Its themes and thematics will actually be resolved in Chapter 3.

* * *

"My ex strangled me last week."

**Foster Area Self-Harm Support: Foster City, California  
January 30, 2008: 10:25AM**

Kim unconsciously clutches the pink marks on her neck, fingers matching where Ron's fingers landed. Her slouch pulls her from the back of the steel folding chair. One of the other girls reaches out and touches Kim's bare arm — gently. Because the girl knows that Kim reacts poorly to any kind of touch nowadays.

"It's humiliating," she says, throat already closing up. "I'm supposed to be a hero, right? I'm supposed to stand up to like — like — " She stops to find the word, and the first one to come to mind is… " — _creeps_ like him."

Her hand falls from the neck, showing the marks in all their glory. "I'm so tired. You all know how they market me right?_ I'm your basic average girl._ Yeah right."

She bows her head, unable to meet eyes with anyone. Even though she knows no one is judging her; these are the kindest, most empathetic people she's ever met… and they all hate themselves.

She grabs the sleeve of her blouse and peels it past the elbow, showing her bandaged wrist. "Like _what is Kim Possible_? She's this brainy, brawny girl who goes where people tell her to so she can beat villains up. Oh, and she's pretty. Or um… used to be, I guess."

She's lost a lot of weight recently. Paled a few shades. Nails are chewed up. Pink splotches on her fingers from torn hangnails. Split ends and jagged hairs from her tearing them out.

"They say I can do anything," she sniffles. "But — y'know what? I think they just say that. They assume I can do anything because it's easier for them and now I'm all burnt out and…"

"People like you, Kim."

Kim turns and looks at this one brunette girl, Amelia, who's a bit on the heavier side. Kim wipes her eyes and reaches out for her hand, fingers intertwining fast. Her heart beats so fast around this girl, and it's hard for her to talk.

But Kim can't tell if Amelia's so touchy feely with her because she's mad crushing on her, or if she's just doing the normal performative parts of female friendship. She's pretty sure Amelia's straight though.

Kim kinda reads as straight too.

"Ron is going to kill me one day," Kim says. "I don't think he understands that."

Amelia's thumb slips from Kim's palm, and the girl retracts her hand. Kim frowns and looks at the other girls. While some of them can relate, they don't know how strong Ron is, how he's a God and doesn't even know it. Doesn't even take responsibility for it.

"He is the most powerful person on the planet, and when you pit him against a pretty girl like me, with above average wit and strength, well… I don't stand a chance, do I?

The group leader, a curly haired woman in her sixties leans forward. Very rarely does she interrupt anyone like this. But she does, holds up a wrinkled hand and drops it, leaving a soft smile.

"Kimberly, you know you are so much more than that."

Kim shakes her head. She croaks, "No. I'm not."

* * *

_Meow Meow RAOW Myeeeh Meow Raaaaaoow! _

"Okay, okay, guys. I'll feed ya, I'll feed ya. Geez. I just walked in and you're already swarming me."

**Kim's Apartment: San Francisco, California  
February 1, 2008: 12:32AM**

Shego's will is quite illustrious — the woman was loaded. Though Kim did not dare mention it to a single soul, she had her fingers crossed that maybe she'd get that fancy loft in Paris out of her death. That could be the one good thing to come from all this.

But perhaps as a final fuck you, all Kim got from it was the mercenary's shitty studio apartment in San Francisco, as well as custody of her cats. No application fees or credit checks necessary.

The apartment itself is cramped; it's a wonder Kim was able to find six different spots to put the food bowls to keep all the cats from poaching each other's food. With her clothes scattered all over the floor and half-draped across open bureau drawers, this is where she spends most of her brooding time.

_Thwack!_ goes the newspaper when she tosses it against her desk and _Snap!_ go the buttons as she yanks off the blouse and blazer at the same time, unceremoniously dropping them to the floor. She frowns at the slacks which jut out at the hips, but only because the waist is so pinched in. She undoes the belt and lets them fall to the floor, and breathes a sigh of relief. She hasn't showered or changed over the past week she's been working so hard, and wearing a suit for even just a few hours is exhausting.

She pulls a plain t-shirt from the floor and slips that on, pulling the straps of her bra out the sleeves and letting the rumpled thing fall to the floor. One of the cats immediately jumps and begins to play with the elastic, probably a sign that she needs to spend more playtime with them.

She slaps a hand to the side of her face so that she can't glance in the mirror, and lowers herself into her desk, unfurling the paper and quickly scrolling through it. Occasionally, her eyes flick up to a corkboard pinned to the wall. On it are various photos and articles with varying shades of red yarn binding it all together.

It's like when she was tracking Shego — but this time she's tracking herself. What would a normal person really interested in her be doing? Or rather, how would Will Du do it? This is her best guess.

When she's satisfied that the paper has no leads, she gently pushes it away and leans in to check her email when a white cat with black spots leaps into her lap, chatting up a storm. She checks his food bowl and frowns because it's full. Edgar probably justs some pats, so she reaches over the cat's head and scratches his chin from behind. His face twists into unexpected delight and already he's purring.

"You're getting really heavy, buddy," Kim whispers, knowing that's not true. None of the cats have grown since she met them. The variable is her. She's shrinking. Undereating will do that to you. She pulls her shirt taut against the chest and sees that she's even more flat than the last time she checked, and the edges of her panties hang a bit off the hip. Like she's aging backwards.

Oh, how she wishes…

To wake up one morning and be a little girl again? To a life that's not so complicated? Heck. She feels like a little girl, acting so stupid and everything. It's like she skipped an important phase of emotional development that you can only do when you're a preteen or something.

She picks up her phone and drops the panties, grabbing boy shorts off the floor that fit a lot better. But they make her look like a preteen. Not that anyone's looking. Or cares.

Her next scheme is to stop big ol' British Petroleum, better known as BP, from drilling about thirty million barrels from the ocean. The problem is that she doesn't know where they're drilling or even when, it's only mentioned in the vaguest of ways…

The bigg_er_ problem is that no one on her team, with the exception of Rhino, is into it.

"_What's next, Possible? You want us to end the slashing and burning of our rainforests?" Hank grinned like an apex predator about to snag its prey._

"_Well —_ _yes!" Kim squeaked. "The carbon emissions that come from our ancient trees are just bad — if not worse — than this drilling stuff."_

_That rooted several laughs from the peanut gallery and Hank leaned back with his arms crossed, and he gave her a knowing grin. He knew about the rainforest thing, he just wanted to bait her._

_Before she can snap a retort back, Big Daddy laid a massive paw over her hand. "Kimberly, we all know that this is a difficult transition for you as a former hero but try to see it our way — why are we the ones to fight global warming?"_

"Why are we the ones to fight global warming?" Kim repeats to herself with a sneer, holding her phone up to her chin, and scrolls through her contacts.

It's really weird that Drakken is in her contacts now. Not like they've talked at all, not since the whole Attitudinator thing in December. Which now sits on her kitchen table as if it's a flower in a vase.

Sometimes she comes home at midnight and casts one fleeting glance at the horrible machine before passing out on her air mattress. Everything would be so much easier if she just had the guts to commit. But she doesn't. She's a coward. Or whatever.

She just knows her self-respect is at an all-time low, so she dials the number. And waits.

Four rings. Click.

A woman starts talking and Kim's instinct is to drop the phone, but she catches herself and presses it tighter to her ear.

"_Hey, dummies, Doctor D is not in. Probably off baking cupcakes or planning some other dumb, wacked out scheme. Drak also doesn't know how to access his voicemail, so don't bother with a voicemail. 'Kay?"_

Beep.

Dry mouthed, Kim stutters and jumps into the voicemail after about two seconds of silence. "Hey, um, hi. It's — it's me. Obviously. Um. Listen. Can you please call me? I need help, I don't know what I'm doing."

Click.

Great. Shego's stupid voice scared the shit out of her and she wound up sounding like a big idiot. God. Who asks _Doctor Drakken_ for advice on how to be a villain? She's better than this and once again — she catches herself staring at the Attitudinator.

"_No_," she says to herself with a convincing amount of resolve. "Well… okay. So my team doesn't want to do my plan, whatever. I can go there myself, I just need to set up a ride to — " That notion hangs in the air for a long time and finally she slumps back in the chair, Edgar tripping, his tummy flopping onto her. " — dammit. How do I get a ride? I'm still famous — right? Damn. How did Wade do it — Edgar, stop it."

She grabs Edgar, who five seconds ago was very intent on falling asleep on top of her, and lifts him in the air. Immediately his claws latch out and stick to the boyshorts, stretching them down the thigh where they begin to slip. She sorta lets it happen until she realizes they might actually fall off, and she yanks them up past her stomach.

"Rock bottom," she murmurs, dropping the cat to the floor. She runs a hand through her hair. "I hate this. I need Wade. I need Ron. I need Ruf—"

Rufus is dead. Right.

"But like — we shouldn't have to fight — global warming is bad right? Can't we work together just once? I don't want to hate him. Them. I mean. It's not just Ron. Obviously. Fuck. Okay, Possible. This is dumb. You need to get up and do it yourself. Like you always have."

So she gets up. Breathes in. Breathes out. And looks to the closet and catches herself in the mirror. Immediately crestfallen. She has no idea how she held her own against Ron for so long when she's so… it's like she withered. Like she was left in a ditch for a few months.

It's in the way her cheeks only seem round now when she's smiling. Or how her skin is pale, and reveals the dark rings under her eyes. Then obviously you have the wiry arms, the slender shoulders, the flat hips, all of it. She slides the glass door open to avoid it all and —

— right.

Another part of Shego's _will_.

All of her things are gone — replaced by an entire rack of that lacy black number Shego dressed her up in back in Paris. The crop top and skirt that leave her star-shaped scar wound on her stomach completely visible, showcases it like she's proud of it.

_Everything_ is Shego's. The cats, the apartment, the furniture, the shirts, the shoes, the underwear, all of it. Yet eventually it'll be worthless. She'll shrink herself down into a kid again and none of this stuff will mean anything. She snickers at the thought. Is that why she's not eating?

And then she catches herself crying in the mirror. Falls back into the chair and wipes her eyes. That's the best she can come up with. She hasn't been accepting any money from the Bermuda Triangle, because it's _blood money_ and _she doesn't do that_. So she needs these things.

She needs the rent to pay itself every month. She needs those meal kits that get mailed to her every day. God. It makes her sick just thinking about it. That Shego set all of this up and Kim just lets it happen.

Her hand shuffles through the desk drawer, and for a second she feels her fingers wrap around a revolver. She cringes and drops it, rummaging deep until — there. A lighter.

Click. Thwoom.

Bang.

The dresses light up like its Christmas, the flames quickly spreading. She sits there and just watches it. Watches that uncontrollable and incalculable flicker, how it eats and eats and grows. It's like breathing.

She breathes with it. Holds her arms out, lets the smoke crawl into her. It's not green fire, it's red. She did this.

But then the fire twists into a vortex. It shrinks like Kim shrinks, but faster. Flames roll along until they even out into lampshade hips, splinter until the arms branch out and she becomes a beautiful woman. Still burning. Flashes emerald. Cackles.

The green woman steps closer to Kim and she can't help but be drawn in. Shego's finger cups Kim's chin, burning a mark along her jaw. She closes her eyes and waits for those lips to press against hers, and as wonderful as the kiss is, her lips go numb. But it somehow tastes so good. She doesn't want to let go.

She reaches up for Shego's breast, she can't help herself, she's never been kissed like this before. But her hand stops, fingers twitching, as Shego's hand rams into Kim's breasts. Pushing hard. Too hard. Her breasts sear, retracting into her chest, compressing until they're nothing, until Shego's hand is flat on Kim's chest. The second hand falls from Kim's jaw and to her hips and like before, the flaming hand shaves the flesh away. The hips thin until they're indistinguishable from legs.

Their lips momentarily part and Kim whispers. "Thank you."

Thank you? Why? She's losing control — she should cry. Or something. Isn't that how a normal person would respond?

The hip erasing hand grabs Kim by the hair and drags her head against the plaster wall, fingers burning hairs out one by one. And it's such a relief — she nuzzles closer to Shego's chest, like the fire is a ward to protect her. No one can grope her, no one can even touch her, because… because… she's a child.

Kim digs her hands through the flames and her fingers ignite at the tips. She runs the fire across her cheeks like she would if she were applying makeup, and the curves and angles melt away into round baby-fat. The collar of her shirt slips to her shoulder and she grins, looking up at the towering woman.

Shego's brow furrows, and her hand thrusts into Kim's throat and smashes her body against the wall again. The wooden panelling breaks apart and the fire spreads fast, consuming the whole complex. "You… like this?"

"Y-yeah," Kim squeaks, her voice so much higher. She tries to explain herself, but Shego's tongue slips back in and clogs her mouth. "No, I'm a kid, you can't hurt me." Her hands helplessly smack against Shego's chest but it's not nearly enough. Her head is fixed into staring straight into Shego's eyes, those horrible blue eyes. They glare at her with such contempt. Not Shego's. The boy who tried to kill her on a rooftop and then rubbed elbows with her and joked around. The boy who is so powerful he can do anything.

"Ron — "

…

She doesn't remember picking up the fire extinguisher, but she knows she did because she's standing there, white foam smeared across everything in her closet. Somehow she knows it won't be there tomorrow, Shego's ludicrous money will know to hire someone to clean up for her. So she lets the hunk of metal smash into the floor. It makes dents that the people will fix too.

They'll take care of everything.

She looks at herself in the mirror, and screams. Because she still has no breasts or hips. She looks like a stupid twelve year old. She _is_ a stupid twelve year old. "What? No no no… that wasn't real, was it? I'm crazy, that's it… no. I'm not that far gone yet." She cringes at how high her voice is.

Her hair is ragged, like someone took scissors to it. Her clothes barely hang onto her shrunken body, and her lips are still numb. She slips a finger into her mouth and runs it across her teeth and gums. They sting. It's not obvious, but they're in recovery from something.

Then something else.

Kim's eyes are also blue.

"What?!" she squeaks, reaching for a light. She pulls the chain to the lamp and light explodes across the room and her eyes are back to normal. She blinks rapidly and shuts the light off. Not blue. She must be seeing things, or hallucinating, or something. Something's wrong.

"Ron," she announces to no one in particular. "I know you hate me, but you can't do this to me. Please. Change me back."

Nothing. The cats all stare at her attentively. She kneels down and pets one of them on the head, his face smooshing at her touch. He shouts and rams into her leg, circling around her fast. She giggles and leans back onto the air mattress.

It's just a bad dream. There's no way she actually changed like that. Ron can't be that powerful, right?

* * *

It's definitely a dream. Because she wakes up in London. In an air vent no less.

Her body's sore. She rubs her neck and slumps against the metal plated wall, legs folded up to her chest. Did she fall asleep here?

She concentrates.

She woke up. Called Hank. Ordered that he set her up for a flight to London. There was some kind of argument and she screamed at him by accident. Fuck. That wasn't cool. It must be… Friday now? Double fuck.

She checks her body; turns out she went for that lacy black number Shego made her wear. It looks so stupid seeing how she still looks like a child.

Triple fuck.

**BP Headquarters: London, United Kingdom  
February 1, 2008: 10:36AM**

Kim pulls out her phone and scrolls until she finds the girl she feels closest to… wait, did she break into BP?! Yeesh.

She chooses that one girl Amelia, the one she's kinda been crushing on. She's very cute. Messed up like her, but cute.

Kim [10:38AM]  
Are you emotionally available?

That's one thing she's picked up from group — people have limits to what they can take on. When all of your friends are suicidal, it's good to check in before going on a whole thing that might overwhelm someone with dread.

Before she can slip the phone back into her satchel, it rings. _Beep beep de-beep!_

Definitely not her ringtone, at least from what she can remember. And she's not vain enough to use her _theme song _as her actual ringtone. She's pretty sure it's still set to some Oh Boyz song. She'll need to change it back.

Amelia [10:38AM]  
go kill urself

What? No. Amelia wouldn't say something like that, she's too —

_Beep beep de-beep!  
_

Kim frowns, checks the phone again and —

Amelia [10:38AM]  
u shudnt come to group anymore, ur 2 famous, its distracting

Before she can even react —

_Beep beep de-beep!_

Amelia [10:38AM]  
like u have a good life, no reason to bitch

_Beep beep de-beep!_

Amelia [10:39AM]  
so yeah go kill urself

All through the onslaught, Kim doesn't move, wedged against the corner of the air vent. A familiar dread crawls up her arms, daring her to move, to do something. Something bad. She grits her teeth and stows the phone away and sets back to crawling. Amelia's wrong about her. It's not like that. She has to be hallucinating, or misreading, or something. Something something something, God, Amelia wouldn't… fuck.

Kim yelps when her palm smooshes into a metal spike. She reels back, narrowly avoiding the spike which rises up from the floor and stabs through the ceiling. Then spikes from all over. She twists and turns and writhes. It's like squirming through a thorn bush, but she pulls it off. That is until the end when one rises and slices the bandages from her arm.

Her wrist sears and the scabs reopen and…

Blood.

* * *

The blood spills from her wrist and into the sink, turning pink when it strikes the ceramic. Kim does her best to clean the wound but there's only so much she can do beyond the basic first-aid stuff she has with her. It takes nearly six band-aids to cover the whole thing, and even then that's not enough.

**BP Headquarters Bathroom: London, United Kingdom  
February 1, 2008: 10:49AM**

She looks into the bathroom mirror and sees those blue eyes again. Blinks and they're gone. Green. But she can't be imagining it; he's inside her. She knows it. There's this pulsating in her chest so much like how it is when his magic comes into her. It's obvious.

She grits her teeth and turns towards the hand drier. She needs him out. Whatever it takes. So she grabs it by the edges and smashes her head into the metal. Again and again and again. Until it becomes unbearable and then once more with feeling. Something in her mind goes blank and she falls flat on the floor, clutching her head, pushing what little of her hair is left past her forehead.

"Ron…" she moans. She shuffles to her feet and trips forward, body slumping against the sink. She turns the faucet on again and grabs a scoopful of water and splashes it into her face. Again and again. And the water goes from white to pink to red. She screams and backs up, the red continuing to run. It fills fast, overflowing and soaking the floor.

The door immediately opens and a janitor barges in with a mop, first reaching for the faucet. He shoots an annoyed glance at her and she yelps.

"S-sorry, mister, I sh-should," Kim stutters, eyes locked on him, hands swatting at her dress to get the blood off of her.

"Hey, aren't you Kim Possible?" the janitor flashes a bemused grin. How the fuck does this guy recognize her? She's twelve! With a bad haircut!

Her heartbeat doubles. She shoves the door open and clutches her head.

"I need a coffee."

* * *

Ever since Kim hit the trail to Paris, she's always carried an Aeropress on her. It's a simple machine that allows one to make coffee on the go, no electricity needed. Just access to hot water.

After aerating the coffee by giving the grind a droplet of hot water to get that nice sophisticated taste extracted properly, she slowly pours the rest into the cylinder. Mixes it exactly ten times, and then moves fast. She flips the cylinder so that the hot water and grind drop over the filter. She snags the rubber plunger and slips it into the cylinder, pushing hard. The rubber gets airlocked and the resulting pressure pushes the coffee through and… voila! Espresso.

**BP Headquarters Kitchen: London, United Kingdom  
February 1, 2008: 11:20AM**

Kim immediately cuts the espresso with hot water, and settles into one of the breakroom chairs, bringing the mug to her lips. Americanos are what her and Ron used to have during long flights to missions, although she later learned that he preferred brewed coffee… because she never asked.

Ugh. Don't go there, Possible. That's over and done.

Her numb lips touch the glass and she feels nothing, a bit disappointing. But the tongue picks up the sharp taste of the espresso at least and she grins. It doesn't quite stow away the headache, but it helps.

"_Yo KP._"

The voice comes from her own lips and she spits up some of the coffee, the hot liquid dribbling down her chin. She sets the mug down and looks down. "Ron?"

"_Yeah, it's me, heh heh_," her whole jaw contorts as the air sucked out of her. It feels like vomiting. "_Aren't Americanos our thing? Or did you reclaim that as you went to go find yourself?"_

She's not crazy! Ron is the only one who knows about that. She gets to her feet and… and…

"You need to get out of my head," she says sternly. "What you're doing is wrong."

"_I don't think so, oh hey, check it, you got a fan."_

Her neck snaps against her shoulders and her eyes fall on a corkboard above the table. She saw it coming in, but thought nothing of it. But now… the threads. The articles. Those are hers. That's _her i_nvestigation, but even more thorough. She steps closer, eyes darting everywhere, finding these connections and arguments that all point to the same thing.

She wants to run but her feet won't move. A gust sweeps in from behind her and the papers ruffle against the corkboard, before finally tearing off their respective push pins and shooting off into the air. They twirl and spiral around Kim, making a cyclone.

They talk to her. Tell her dates and times, things that don't make sense, reports on the evil Kim Possible. They speak in this high, snide voice that she comes to realize is Will's. Her eyes widen.

"_Will Du got consumed by my Mystical Monkey Whatever, and his ghost is livin' in it, KP,_" Ron cackles. "_He's in a pretty bad mood."_

It's like a seizure. Or something. The white moves so fast, she can only catch glimpses through the gaps as they speed on by. More and more it spins and more and more she wants to just die. That has to be what's happening. Ron's finally offing her for all the horrible things she's done.

No… that's not true. That was never true. She was _never_ the bad guy. What happened to Will was an accident, maybe even his own doing. She's not bad to the bone, she's trying to save the world, and… and… God, fuck this.

She screams bloody murder and throws her hands into the cyclone. Grips the papers that cut against her hands, but she holds tight. Clenches. Lashes out, takes the cuts in stride, grits her teeth so that Ron can't use her mouth as his personal voicebox, and piles the papers all into one hand.

"You're not real," she announces, more to herself than anything, marching towards the stovetop, papers struggling in her grip. It takes all the strength she has in her to hold on. Her right hand clicks the switch. It crackles. _Krk krk krk krk __**fwa**_. Fire.

It catches and the papers ignite, all of it burning away into — not ashes. They flare and grow bigger, twist and convulse into —

"_Hey Princess_."

The fiery Shego nails Kim in the chest, shoving her to the floor. Kim backs away but just ends up pinned to the wall like before. Those pine-scented lips get dangerously close to hers.

"You can't," Kim squeaks. "I'm just a kid now, you can't hurt me…"

"_Oh, but Kimmie_," Shego pouts, hair waving back and forth. "_I'm sick in the head_…"

"No, please, stop," Kim tries to get away but she can't, she can't do it anymore, her thrashing goes nowhere and she goes limp. She feels a hand slip into her pants and grab her crotch. Shego squeezes it and Kim twitches in pain. "I don't wanna be touched there."

"_You think that will stop me?_"

Shego looks up at her, really looks at her, and begins to work her groin. Like a sculptor. It feels good, she moans. Hands fall to Shego's shoulders because it's all too much, and she feels her flesh roll outwards. Expanding beyond where her body is supposed to go. She doesn't understand.

"_I beat you and you liked it. You little pervert._"

Until her face brushes against the flame, and she feels a tickling across her cheek and her lip. She touches it. Small, razor sharp stubble cuts into her palm. She looks back to Shego and tries to break free, but it's hard. The hand is still in her pants, working her — her — her penis… but nothing's happening.

She's supposed to feel something. Like loss; she's not a girl anymore, right? Isn't that how it works? She's a boy. Shouldn't she be sad? Shouldn't she be sobbing and weeping, begging at Shego's feet to be changed back. But she feels nothing. She's empty. It doesn't matter, none of this stuff matters. There's a punch to her stomach and she falls over, and that doesn't bother her too much either.

Shego stands tall, arms wavering with her building anger. "_Why aren't you reacting?! You act like some fucking vegetable! Are you gay? Are you a boy?! What is it!? Tell me! Tell me now!"_

Kim opens her mouth and her voice comes out deeper. It doesn't bother her for some reason. "Um… I don't know, I'm ok not being a girl I guess."

The ugly Shego monster pulls back. The fire along her cheek dissipates and leaves a long mark up the side of its face, as if smirking. Like a jack o'lantern. "_So that's it… you're a little perverted boy, that's it. Heh heh._"

"No," she snaps back. "I'm — I'm not a boy. I'm just Kim."

It's possible to be in-between right? Non-binary, is what it's called she thinks. This whole transformation thing took a weird turn, but this body makes more sense to her than her old one. It's been less than a minute and it's already felt like a lifetime.

"_No you're not, you're not the Kim Possible I grew up with!_" the fire shrieks, little embers flying like spit. "_I'm glad you broke up with me, you _—"

"Ron?" she stutters, processing. Thinking. She already knew it was Ron doing this. That's not what's occupying her mind. Despite the obvious distress in the fire's face. All she can think of is why did she break up with Ron? Well duh. Because — because she wanted a chance to live her own life. Make her own decisions. And he stayed behind, holding onto something that's not there. She smirks. "You know why I did it, and you're being dramatic. If _this_ is how you rationalize it, then I don't know what to tell you."

Shego glowers at her.

Kim shrugs. Even smirks. "Keep me like this. Make me a twelve year old boy. I dare you."

The creature howls and flails its flaming arms into the sky, and disappears into thin air, leaving a confused boy sitting on the floor next to half a cup of coffee. Her face is beaded in sweat, the droplets feeling heavy enough to rip the face from her head. She runs an arm across her forehead, and feels hairs that aren't supposed to be there.

Her head hunches against her chest and she smirks.

"Do you really think you can beat me, Ron?"

* * *

It's absurdly easy getting around the headquarters without being detected. She drops down from the ceiling and lands in a hallway of filing cabinets. She looks around and for whatever reason, her instinct leads her to one specific cabinet. One that is especially nondescript. As in it's the only one without a label.

That's promising.

**BP Headquarters Kitchen: London, United Kingdom  
February 1, 2008: 11:20AM**

She finds something. Not anything to do with drilling. But the logo. The logo reminds her or something. But it's out of focus.

Wait. That doesn't make sense. Printed words can't be out of focus. Is she — she scans the room. Everything seems normal. So she looks back at the words and they're even blurrier than before. They shift together, the diagonal arms of a K crossing into the loop of a G. None of it makes sense. She grabs another paper. And another. And another. They're all the same. All the same gobbledygook.

_Bang! Bang!_

Paper everywhere. She claws at the cabinets trying to find something, anything, that she can read. But none of its legible. She pulls out her phone and opens that and it's the same. Somehow in the past ten seconds, she became completely illiterate. She feels her heart slow, her grip lost. She falls against the cabinets and spikes slowly slink out of the metal and jab into her.

There's this ringing in her ears. A dull throbbing, hints of a tenor. Her mouth is moving, totally numb now, and it's Ron's voice that's taunting her. It's so unlike him. It can't be Ron. Ron would never… touch her like he just did —

— _but he just tried to kill you _—

— _he works for your abuser —_

— _he buried your lover —_

— _and licks his lips thinking about slitting your throat —_

"You're grasping at straws," Kim says out loud to herself, standing up, grabbing an arbitrary sheet of paper. She pulls it close to her face. "I'm not crazy. I don't have voices in my head, you don't know the slightest thing about me." Her voice cracks, but she doesn't care. "Keep writing your crazy narratives, _Sidekick."_

There's this roar from her chest, a deep guttural sound, it explodes and she falls back to the ground, auburn locks flopping over her face. She's 'girl' again. Breasts and all.

She grabs the papers fast and pulls it closer to her face.

She can read. It says: Hench Co. That's what the stupid logo says. So Jack Hench must own BP. She definitely didn't know. She's sure no one knows that. For a reason. Slimy ass politician bullshit.

Woof. There goes her vocabulary.

But her cis girlhood snaps away and again she's a preadolescent boy again. She tries to grab one of the cabinets for support but her legs move without her permission and she smashes against the metal and falls to the floor. Head searing, body burning, everything hurts. There's a loud blaring sound behind her and she flips onto her back to see it. It's those stupid alarms. She gets up to run but her legs wobble like jelly and she flops over another table, staplers and tape dispensers spearing her soft flesh.

She vomits. It helps a little bit. Strains to get to her feet and pulls her phone and dials the only number she knows by heart.

…

…

Come on Ron, God dammit.

_Crack!_ Her head turns and it's the security guys. It's two people, it's — Yori and Dementor…

…

That means something, that has to, but she can't think, her mind is moving so slow. Like someone is pulling back the reins and she has to buck to regain control. Yuri — Yora — the um… Yori! That's it. Yori… she pulls out her kakana… cocoona… um… sword thing, and look at Kim warily. Meanwhile, Dementor runs out of the room — is that Dementor? Or do most people look like that? Yeah, she's pretty that's just some guy, not Demontar… oh God, her head.

Things are getting too complicated. She's smarter than this! Right? She wipes the sludge from her lips and looks up at Yori. She scoops a sharpie from off the table and tries to scribble something. YORI and DEMENTOR but the words don't come out right. She can't spell, she can't do anything. It's all devolving into mush.

"Kim?" Ron says when he finally picks up. His voice dangles like it's really a question.

"Ron, you need to stop this right now," Kim slurs while drawing pictures of Yori and Dementor's faces. They're crude, circles with dots for eyes, because she can't think of anything more complicated than that. Just as she finishes Yori's snide grin, the sharpie fumbles from her fingers and drops to the floor.

"Do what? What did I do?"

"What? You know what you —"

She grabs one of the metal cabinets she pulled out and swings it at the sword thing using it as a shield. " — did."

It only works once, Kim's arms are like noodles and can't support the weight. Yori kicks the drawer from Kim's hands and it launches out, falling into glass and cracking open a window. It's a scary sound, she duck for cover because she doesn't want to get hurt but the mean lady hurts her anyways. She hits Kim in the jaw with her boot and blood splurts out. A hand grips her by the shirt, knuckles rolling against the flat chest, and then she's airborne.

_BANG!_

She falls into a girder, her shoulder taking the brunt of it, but it fucking hurts. She must have fallen twenty feet. She rolls onto her stomach, a bit more clear headed. The hold on her mind is looser, she can actually think straight. There are gurgling sounds from inside her head — as if Ron is dazed himself.

"Bullshit Ron," she groans and throws herself over the handrail, falling another ten feet and slamming into the steel floor. Ron gurgles more. She jumps to her feet and darts behind a chemical vat where she can be unseen. Her back straightens against the vat and she holds the phone to her face. "I need help. Fucking help me!"

But he hung up.

She's about to vomit again when her phone comes back to life. FaceTime request from Ron. She hesitates, but swipes Yes.

Crackle crackle crackle. Something's wrong. Kim checks her peripherals and sees Yori off in the distance, storming down a staircase, completely frozen in time.

"Wha — you're not Kim," Ron groans in disgust.

"No! I am Kim, I don't know how you don't recognize this when you're the one changing me!" her voice is just a straight up tenor now. "Hold yourself accountable for once in your life, Ron!""

"Listen, I didn't — " Ron runs a hand through his hair. "Dude, did you take Kim's phone? Is she okay?"

Kim gets red in the face. How can he be so stupid? How can not pick up on her eyes — or the speech patterns. She's sure she'd recognize Ron if it was the other way around.

"_**Reality check KP**_," Ron sighs. Crackle crackle everywhere, the screen goes into blackness and the rupturing buzz of off-air static blares into her ears. She screams but it ends fast, and when she's up and at'em, Ron's standing in front of her. His eyes are blue. "_**Do you really think I was sitting around in my apartment when I suddenly decided, ****Oh! Let's turn Kim into a boy! Yeah, that would show her!**"_ And he adds a Da-Doy face for extra measure.

Kim grimaces. "You never believe me. You obviously don't believe that Sensei assaulted me, and you didn't even trust me to do a peaceful action the other night."

Wait, why is Ron smiling? "What's so funny?!" she snaps.

Ron rolls his shoulders back, and cracks his neck to the side. Voice drops an octave and it booms through the room. ""_**What is Kim Possible?" That's what's been on your mind right? Same for Stoppable-san; dude obviously doesn't get it.**_"

"Me and R-Ron — " Some of her capacity for problem solving comes back. " — you're — you're Master Sensei."

"_**Somewhat, yes,**_" he drawls. "_**I'm too weak to do magic like 'this' anymore."**_ He gestures at her oddball body._** "I'm merely extracting Stoppable-san's subconscious onto you. Calling him was a good idea though, nice try."**_

She shakes her head. This is what Ron thinks of her? Or perhaps not literally, but — but… "You're lying! You always lie and — "

"_**No!**_" he shouts abruptly. _**"For Stoppable-san to clear his mind and become the True Monkey Master, he needs to loosen his mortal ties. I need him to see you for what you really are."**_

She blushes and holds herself back. "But I'm not a boy!"

"_**Oh, I think you are,**_" he cackles. "_**And soon he will come here and see it for himself. Unless you have a better reason for breaking up with him."**_

"What?! That's what this is all about?" she shrieks, voice cracking again. "I'm — this isn't why I broke up with Ron! It's not — I'm not — " She can't not cry. There's snot dripping from her nose and she gets to her feet, backing into the vat slowly. " — is this really how badly we miscommunicated? Does he really not know me?"

Sensei rolls a finger under his chin and considers it. "_**Fuck if I know, think of me as a phone line — I'm not changing the conversation at all. See, let me read your mind right now...**_" He freezes and looks at something in the air. Reaches out and drums fingers along it, like it's some kind of invisible ribbon. His eyes scan it. " _— __**oh, you like having junk between your legs?"**_

She instinctively reaches for her crotch, cheeks glowing pink. "K-k-kinda. I-I don't want to talk about this with you. I'm really confused right now. I feel like — no. I know my deal. I'm non-binary, I think, I don't know this is fast, but I get why this is. Ron's the one who's really confused. He's flipping me over and over again trying to find something that's really obvious."

He raises an eyebrow. "_**Obvious?**_"

"Y-yeah, you can read my mind, you know why I broke up with him."

A pause lingers, almost as if Sensei didn't hear her. So she steps forward and keeps talking. "I just want to do my own thing — like I've been surrounded my whole life with people I'm supposed to impress and I can't do it anymore. I just want a chance to live my own li—"

"_**Bullshit."**_

" — excuse me?!"

Sensei draws closer to her, eyeing her very intently. "_**I think it's because you hate yourself. You immediately left and jumped into bed with a woman who beat you.**_"

Kim closes her eyes. "I made a mistake, and I regret it. Happy?"

He laughs. "_**I wish. I would be happy if I wasn't — you know — dying.**_"

Off in the distance, Kim can hear an electric guitar strumming. Mean sounds, sharp sounds, fast. Getting closer and closer like something is about to explode. "What's that?"

Sensei waves it off. "_**Wow, you have a flare for drama. This is a whole production, crazy stuff. But ou like being a boy. Is that why you broke up with him?"**_

Green light blasts out into a ring, sweeping through darkness and catching on some sconces, casting a putrid shade of lime over everything, yet offering just enough light to be seen.

"That's not why I broke up with — "

" — _**but you like being a boy?"**_

"That's not the — "

Shego appears before her, not as some bizarre fire spirit this time, and Kim stops talking. Stunned. Shego seems solemn. Head bowed to her chest, arms crooked, fingers sliding through raven hair. She's anguished it seems, yet still tough looking in that tailored black suit with the green blouse. So calculated in design for someone so aloof in demeanor.

Shego's eyes roll up and they are filled with hate, like they might pop out. Her hands splay over her head, back arching upright, and she marches forward. The cement floor quakes from her powerful gait, rolling like waves, shifting and parting to the beat of the song.

The lyric from those black, pine-scented lips so powerfully. "_You little creep, you're gonna pay, I won't be shoved out of the way,_ **oh no**…"

The green plasma blasts out of her, breathing with the timbre of her voice. It screams into the air. "**Oh no!**"

Shego grabs her head, the waves of emerald retracting back into a thin frame outlining her. "Oh no…"

But the green escapes again. "**Oh no!**"

A quick break in the song, Kim finds Sensei's eyes again and tries to rush her explanation. "I k-kinda like being a boy, but like — just as much as I like being a girl! I don't know — I don't feel — anything, okay? It should bother me more but it doesn't because… because… " She can't find the words.

Shego silences Kim, flinging an arm out in front of her, fist curled, bicep taut. The green flows with the swing of her arm and a horrible smirk cracks her face into something hideous. A wonder Kim never noticed this expression before, but it was the same one she made when they kissed…

"_I could make a solid case for smashing in your filthy face…_"

The green trails off her knuckle, snapping at Kim like a snake. It whispers. "**Kill him."**

Shego catches the voice and pulls back, again, hands to her head. "_Shut up!_"

But the green doesn't retract this time, it just gets larger. Presses against her, trying to tear into her limbs so that it can pull at her like a puppet. "**Kill him."**

"_SHUT UP_!" Shego roars, arms flailing out, the plasma expanding into a thin mist, twisting and gnarling back to her in a vortex. She catches it all with both hands, sliding back several feet, back foot digging deep into the floor.

"I don't think I've noticed until now, but I've really felt at home in my body!" Kim gets shrill, trying to get away from Shego. "And — and — I like the idea of rebuilding I guess, that's all. I guess Ron does too, huh? But it's not realistic, I have to _work._"

Shego's ankles stretch up and she bobs back down, the guitar chord getting stronger, her energy matching it. The cement cracks under her weight. "_I've got a spade and a burlap sack…_"

"**Kill him now!"**

"_And there's a hole in the yard out back._"

Kim turns towards Shego, teeth gnashing. "Can you shut up already?!"

Shego neck cracks against her shoulders at an impossible angle. She licks her lips and claws at the air, reeling her talons in as if dragging in supper.

"**Kill him now!"**

"_But if I fill it she'll ask me why._"

"I don't understand!" Kim screams. "Stop singing!"

The force of Shego's pull knocks the woman back onto her heels, body flat as a plank, arms crossed at her chest. She stumbles backwards and lands firmly on both feet, heels lifted just above the floor as if she might pounce.

"**Kill him now!"**

"_So I've got one thing to do before you die_."

Kim tries to ignore all of it and charges towards Sensei, but Shego moves so organically, yet with the precision of any dancer worth their salt. Limber yet resilient, re-enforced and bold. It is no wonder Kim had fallen so desperately in love with this woman, despite how obviously foreboding the whole charade was from the start. Even now, she finds herself a little smitten.

"**Now! Now!"**

Shego throws her arms out like a show man, the green releasing itself, constructing a globe around her. Tendrils plume down, sprouting into a statuesque model of Kim's old body. Shego grabs the old Kim by the front of the shirt, dragging her forward, feet smacking against the floor and kicking about like a puppet.

Kim can't watch. It's so vaudeville in the choreography but she knows this is how she really was when held to her lips and —

— she nearly falls over, walking into a model of Ron, also sprouted from the plasma. Fake Ron plows straight ahead, not even looking back at her in his passing, and launches into a sprint.

"_Wait, she will see what you are, I will win back my bride, she herself will decide…_"

The Ron catches Shego's eye, the woman looking up in wild delight as her black lips lazily brush Kim's. The Kim puppet jolts and falls across the floor, still as a corpse. Shego laughs, that childish snicker, and marches ahead. Both her and Ron twist into a battle, hands smacking against each other like swords, rapidly withdrawing and striking back.

"_To get rid of the boy! She'll admit she was wrong, she'll return before long, she'll be singing a song…_"

Shego swings a fist through Ron's flurry and ensnares his entire neck. She squeezes, swatting away his wavering hands, and finally he goes limp. His body twists into itself, the tendril shooting back up into the globe. Shego cackles again and strides over to the real Kim, swiping at the air again.

Immediately her clothes rip apart at the middle, leaving her naked against the cold steel. She catches a glance at her penis down below and almost vomits, goosebumps popping up all over her body from the metal.

Shego's hand makes for Kim's breast, but of course they're not there. She's flat, and the hand wraps around a pocket of air. It would usually flash her back to New Hampshire, to Sensei groping her and forcing himself on her in the tundra… but there's nothing left.

Shego towers over her. She can look down, but the blur from her own nose masks so much of what Kim is now. This stripped down mannequin of a person. Everything that once burned and trigger trauma now wiped away, erased forever.

Shego's hand scoops into what appears to be an invisible jaw, and her lips come together as if kissing someone. But for Kim, it's just Shego's chest bumping against her face. But she remembers how this felt, how aggressive it was, and though it was consensual, it was assault. And Kim feels far weaker than ever before.

Shego stoops down to her level, and the words flow from the corner of those black lips. "_Full of coooomfoooort and joooooooy…_"

The lyrics physically knock her backwards onto her rear, and the lacy dress billow around her, falling onto her limbs. Her sighs are higher pitched now and the red hair obscures her vision. She flips it over her face, gets to her feet, and sees Ron staring at her from across the room. She ignores him and touches her breast.

Totally unreal.

Not the transformation. But that is what she's been living as the whole time.

"Um… KP?

She looks up at Ron, and there's the deepest of concerns in his eyes and somehow she knows this is actually him. She's been endowed with the Mystical Monkey Power enough times to know when it's in her, and in this moment it's not.

"Sorry, I — um… " That was real, right? … yeah! Of course it was. She's not _that_ crazy.

"You're wearing the dress again, Kim," Ron frowns, talking to her as if she's some relapsing patient.

She looks at the dress, at the scar. Her hands fold behind her back. "It's complicated, how did you get here?"

"Oh! Yeah, um…" He scratches his neck. "... you called me saying I was doing something to you, which I'm _not_ bee-tee-dubbs then the service cut out. So I got kinda worried so I warped on over."

"How'd you know where I was?"

"I just do I guess. I mean, I care about you, Kim."

That's it — that's the moment. The one where she is supposed to say something.

"I don't think you do, Ron."

His forehead wrinkles a bit in frustration. He's _scoffing_ at her. "Kim, I _love_ you. We talked about this." He announces that as if it's obvious. As if she's crazy.

Deep breath, Possible. Confront him. Tell him he's wrong. Tell him what Shego needed to hear. "Ron, that boy was me. You made me into that."

"No, I — well… I did feel some of my mystical monkey junk flowin'. I figured you were in distress and borrowed some."

"No, that was Sensei. He went into your head, Ron. He like — projected your subconscious onto me."

His brow furrows. "Sensei? Oh c'mon, KP. First you tell me he assaulted me, and now you're saying he _invaded_ my mind?"

This isn't what Kim needed to say to Shego; it's what someone needed to say to her. Her fist curls at her hips. "I got assaulted again, Ron. Shego forced herself on me. Over and over. Transformed and chipped me away and — " she catches herself crying and pauses to catch her breath. " — is that you imagine happening to me, Ron? Is this how you see me? As this pathetic cretin who… I guess is a little boy? Do you still not get why I broke up with you." That lingers for a second. "Ron, why don't you believe me?"

"Believe what? Also can we go back to the boy thing?"

Why is he so calm? It's pissing her off. That was a nightmare, and it all stemmed from him not trusting her. Just flipped and turned over again and again to find some big grand secret when there was none.

"I broke up with you because we've been living in each other's shadows for too long; I need to grow up."

Ron gets closer, jaw clenched. "_I _need to grow up, Kim?! Fuck you! You're the one who — "

" — I said _**I **_need to grow up Ron, not _you_."

Ron's pointing finger freezes mid-jab. He grumbles something and continues, "Okay, well — um — so much for growing up, huh? You slept with Shego, and just did everything she told you — "

"_We never slept together!_" she snaps. "Why do you always assume those things? You did the same thing with Eric!"

Ron blinks, trying to recall it. "I asked if you had kissed Eric and — "

"You know what I mean!"

" — yeah, I do. Okay, fine. Whatever."

"Don't _whatever_ me. Yes, Shego was a mistake. I thought she could help me. She promised me she'd help me and — you don't even know how it got started, okay? It's not any of your business!"

"Well it is my business when…" his voice trails off, his hands running along some invisible ribbon just like Sensei did when he read her mind. "... you _are_ trying to take over the world!"

Oops.

"But you don't have an actual plan yet," Ron laughs, fingers dropping to his side. "Good luck with that. Classic Kim. Telling everyone she wants to make her own decisions and then doing things to intentionally screw herself over."

It feels like tendrils in her mind, twisting about and prying. Unsaid things filled with something horrible and sucked dry. She unconsciously takes a step back, but he takes a step forward. A bigger step.

"I'm — taking the world over isn't easy, okay?!" she snaps again. Her mind is burning. She needs him to release it, because she knows what this is. It's her problem solving, her silences, her instincts, tied up and bent towards his will. "You're doing the same thing to me that your subconscious did! You're manipulating me, stop it!"

He shrugs. "Kim, if you're gonna be a bad guy, I'm going to have to treat you like one. Why do you want to take over the world?" His eye catches on something in the air and he blocks it away with his hand. "Ah! Spoiler alert! I just saw part of the answer, so tell me quick!"

She gets a little teary eyed. He's just as bad as Sensei — if not worse... "Ron — why are you being such a jerk to — "

Her throat tightens and the invisible fingers fall into the pink grooves embedded in her neck.

"Kim…" he says in a very sing-song voice. "Come on…"

The vicelike grip pushes deeper so she just spits it out. It's not worth it.

"Drakken orchestrated everything that happened, okay! He — he's the one who applied to all those colleges for me. He knew what it would do — and — and — Ron, please, you're hurting me." She stares at him but he doesn't even flinch. It gets tighter. "Fuck, okay. Um. He was secretly in charge of the crime ring I worked for and — it's too complicated, I can't — I — I — can't… breathe..."

Ron groans and drops her. She falls to her knees, panting. Looks up at him as if it's the first time. She wants to run but he is _making_ her tell the truth. "Drakken said that he'll never take over the world, but he thinks I can. Because I'm pretty and smart and strong and…" She covers her mouth but it's too late, she's already crying. "... that's not it, it's — I know what it sounds like. But I'm doing this because _I_ want to."

Ron's eyes narrow. "Pretty, smart, and tough? So what am I? A big dumb ugly idiot?"

She can't help it, she can't control it, not when he's digging into her head like this. "No, you're a monster."

"Hoho, that's_ rich_," Ron says. "You're telling the truth too. It's refreshing, y'know, since you keep lying to me."

"I don't lie to y— " she chokes, and her mouth moves automatically. " — I lied, I cut myself still. Several times a week, a-and — " She clamps her mouth shut, biting so hard it draws blood from her lip. "Ron, please…"

He crosses his arms defiantly. "Uh oh, that's no good. Hey, I got an idea. Show me who you really are. Let me… there. Do you feel that? In your chest? It's asking your heart… _what do you want, Kim?_"

She does feel it. It's _a lot_. There's a weight holding her down and it's screaming at her. Her whole body shakes.

"I — I want to win. Whatever it takes," she says, but her voice quakes. Why does it quake? Isn't that what she wants? This doesn't make sense.

"How about this?" Ron cackles, and then turns to her with a devious expression. Kim's voice exits his white lips. "_I want to fail — I want every possible bad thing to happen to me because I want to keep feeling sorry for myself._"

"That's not true, Ron, it's — " She chokes again. Shuts her eyes, tries to think of something more powerful. Something true. Like leaving that shitty apartment, like figuring out the last piece of her master plan, or feeling confident enough to get a girlfriend.

Her skin squirms and shifts around her whole body. It makes her mad, makes her want to grab a knife and stab herself. Anything to get the skin to stop.

She closes her eyes. She really doesn't know what she wants. At least consciously. But then the magic starts doing its work. Looping through her mind, rearranging everything within her, and it all strains. This isn't supposed to happen, and it's not like before. Last time it was smooth, effortless, this is — tremendous. Maybe because it's real.

Short brown hairs come into her cheeks and upper lip, building into an ugly, ratty shadow, long enough to run a finger through.

"Wait…"

Her breasts sink back into her chest while her shoulders broaden. The hips flatten again and she feels her vagina stretching inside out until she has a dick again. She touches it from outside the dress and it extends, goes erect almost immediately. It hurts, this weird throbbing. She doesn't want that. That scares her. So it falls limp, and she feels everything else contracting and pulling down until — age sixteen, she thinks. When she really got serious about the Team Possible thing. So not a big coincidence.

She looks up at Ron and he's actually… shocked. Like there's remorse in his face. His jaw falls slack and he looks like he wants to say something, but his eyes are mesmerized by what happens to her. As if something within me is being unlocked. As if Sensei told the _truth_, that this was all pried from his subconscious and now he is seeing it for real and recognizing it. Maybe he dreamed of it, or thought of it in his past time. Like a writer seeing the artist's first sketch.

Kim bites her lip and tries to talk but no words come out. Her throat screams at her, the Adam's Apple slowly pushing through the flesh. Like she swallowed a golf ball. She chokes and leans forward. Looks up at Ron warily, breathing harshly. "Ron, stop this." But her voice is deeper now. A tenor. She's lucky, she thinks she can hit her old register. Probably something she actually wanted.

Still well-toned, some of the muscles displaced into her chest where they go taut. Some are lost. She doesn't feel as strong as she used to. She looks at her hands; the skin is rougher now, her hands are bigger. When she falls to the ground, her skin isn't soft and pillowy anymore. It's tough and resilient. She touches her calves and they're pulsating with muscles. Another shift, and her ass flattens into nothing. Her stomach, despite being underfed, puffs out a bit.

She's a boy. Through and through.

Ron didn't do this to her. As the magic crawls out of her chest, she knows she did it. Because somewhere inside, she does want this. She wants to be reborn, to transition. Even though that's the hardest possible thing for her right now.

Kim falls to her knees, crying again. She can't help it. She punches the floor and tries to scream but nothing comes out. Too hoarse. Needs water. So she spits, but even that isn't strong enough and it gathers at her lips and drips like drool.

"I hate you," she finally says, voice crackling like a paper bag. She blinks away the tears and looks up at Ron.

He looks like he wants to cry too. Or at least he's very pale. He wipes some sweat from his face, and forces himself to be mean. "Least we're honest with each other now, _Ms. Pretty-Strong-And-Smart._"

Kim looks up. Her arms are weak, she still has anorexia. She feels shorter than she used to. Like verging on shrimpy. Guess she _wants_ that too. "I'm going to transition back."

He steps back, like he might run. He clearly doesn't want to look at her anymore. "Yeah, ah-huh. Maybe after another girl beats you enough times, you will."

A flash of red. She rushes to her feet, fists clenched, and immediately trips on the black dress that now barely hangs off her shoulders. She falls flat on her face and out of her combat boots. Falling down hurts more than it used to. She props herself up and gives Ron one hard look.

He smiles, raising a hand to the air. Somehow, there's an invisible ribbon only she can feel and it's telling her that he's about to change her back. And she'll forever be his. It's in his eyes, that possessive ego.

So Kim gets up. "This is my fault."

He stops, fingers pinched together, but not snapping. He blinks. Drops his hand. "What...?"

"I want to transition. I want to rebuild. I'm non-binary, I guess, and this isn't ideal but it's better."

Ron nods very slowly and clenches his teeth. "I — I —I need to talk to Sensei."

She waits for him to say something, when he suddenly vanishes. The drilling pain in her head leaves too.

This is real. Not an illusion. She swats at her chest, running the fingers down, back convulsing while she sobs. But somehow — this feels like the first moment of her life. Because this makes sense, that's what scares her. It's the first time she feels like she's in her own body — that she has control. Or the second time. Since she was a boy earlier too. Even though she's _not_ a boy.

"What the fuck?!"

Kim turns around and sees Yori standing over her with a katana. She sheathes it fast, eyes crawling over Kim's body in amazement. Kim's face is uncanny, especially the eyes, and it's the same skin tone and hair color and everything. At least, the same as the raggedy Kim who has been starving herself.

Yori looks around and sees all the evidence — all the things Ron left behind to make it seem like the status quo; Kim notices them at the same time.

A padded bra, foam hip pads, prosthetic stilts for the legs, platform shoes, a large makeup kit and razor. Scattered everywhere as if Kim tripped on something and dropped it all. The bruise on the knee shows that much.

The dress swamps Kim like a tent in a way that is embarrassing — Yori can't watch this any longer so she grabs the garb and pulls it off her. Leaving just a sobbing 'boy' in a beige camisole and panties. Panties that hold back a noticeable bulge, thin little hairs peeking past the stretched waistband. Kim looks up with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm — um… fuck. I c-can explain."

Yori nods slowly, looking at the boy some more. Sees the markings on her hand: the drawings of her and Dementor. The one mark that makes her have to _work_. "Were you some kind of crossdresser the whole time?"

Kim gulps. What is she supposed to say? The truth that this kinda sorta just happened while time was probably frozen? "I'm trans. I'm a girl."

Yori nods again. It's weird to see her so conflicted. "Take off your clothes."

"No," she squeaks. "I don't want to."

She blushes because she sounds like a child. A whiny, bratty child.

The katana swings out and Kim flinches, but it just scratches the panties and shirt, which tumble to the floor in pieces, leaving her completely exposed again. Her face gets beet red and she tries to move back, penis hanging limply between her legs; it's cold.

"You're really Kim Possible?" Yori says with a dry throat of her own.

Kim's hands move to cover the penis, but, "_Arms at your sides_," so she complies. Looks up and bites her lip. "Yori. Please. Please believe me."

"I do," Yori whispers and whirls off her gi, showing off well-toned arms coming out of the tank top. "Take it. It's okay."

Kim nods and slips the thing on over her shoulders, tightening it around the waist. Her eyes water up because it's probably the only nice thing anyone has done for her that day.

Yori reaches out. "Now. Take my hand."

Kim does so, leaving everything behind her. She has to look up to see this person, but Kim feels just as tall for some reason. Like they're equals. Still though, there's that primal fear. "Please don't hurt me."

Yori nods for a third time. Her voice is strained. "You know I have to."

* * *

_Comfort and Joy _is a song from the musical "Bat Boy."


	3. Rebirth Pt 2

Black smoke curls into Kim's nostrils and leaves trails of embers through the cavities in her face, tightening her jaw and compressing her cheeks. Clamped tight though her eyelids may be, the smoke finds a way and blurs her eyes in tears. She gasps in pain and more of the toxins come into her mouth. Kim tries to scream but it's not possible like this.

"Don't lie to me this time," Yori says from behind, fist dragging Kim by the hair so that her head cracks against her shoulders. Kim looks up at the sky and sees the smoke billow up into the blue, slowly mutating it into gray and blotting out the sun. Kim's heart rises and falls, but it does little to calm her. She spits because maybe it'll help, but it doesn't.

**BP Headquarters Kitchen: London, United Kingdom  
February 1, 2008: 1:09PM**

Knees rest against the rim of the smokestack, eractically bobbing up and down from nerves. She tries to twist away from the smoke and look Yori in the eye — but she can't. Her body snags under the weight of the smoke and everything burns.

"Yori — I'm telling you the truth," Kim gasps, body falling limp against the hot metal. It burns through the gi and assails her now thin limbs, cooking the bone and flesh, but it's better than the smoke. "I'm — I wasn't even thinking straight. Look." She holds up her hand, showing the crude drawings of Yori and Dementor that are now smeared into something even more incomprehensive She somehow feels Yori's eyes burrow into the drawings, and then the fist twists back into her hair, shoving her back into the smoke.

This is how Kim Possible will die probably. Absolutely helpless with no inkling as to what she did to deserve this. She told Yori the truth! She said Hench and Yamanouchi must be working together, but Yori said that's stupid and Kim can't trick her; it doesn't make sense.

This time Kim looks down into the smoke as it rises, as if daring it to move away. It dries the moisture out of her eyes until she feels crusty. Her head lolls about, brain beating as fast as her heart to come up with some sort of solution. She can't die like this, not as this unrecognizable corpse; the people will think she ran away and that is unacceptable. Kim Possible never runs.

She opens her mouth to repeat it again. "I thought that Jack Hench owned BP, and was working with Sensei to do… something," but the syllables flatten into dull screams. Apparently this idea is stupid, stupid enough to warrant Yori thinking that Kim is _lying._

Her back cracks against her waist and the gi loosens, the sprigs of hair on her bare chest tingling as the smoke flows parallel to them. The hair twists more, tugging at roots in her head. She screams but her voice is shot now. She whimpers but that is drained too and she knows that she will soon be dead, and she is sure Yori won't even notice and continue to suffocate the corpse — because whatever intel Kim apparently _knows_ is a coup de grace.

Kim falls back into the smoke and lets it plume around her, constricting every orifice she has. How foolish she was to think that she could stop this. These coals that burn here will burn forever; she could topple this smokestack and they'd rebuild it anew, or she could stop that one drilling and still they would find a way to pollute.

She could kill Jack Hench, but his white son who likely shares the same name as him would inherit all this, and he would make the same decision to instigate climate change in the name of profit.

None of this is anything Kim can stop, and maybe that's why she's being tortured. Why her chapped heels press into the knees of this woman she barely knows, this woman who she thinks might be crying. Who may have never killed before but will now because she's _desperate_.

No one wants this. Aside from men like Hench, who set these things up so that people can die.

Two hundred environmental activists die in a year, most of them because of scary agribusiness. They burn the rainforest down to clear land for their own purposes, be it for palm oil or soybean production, or even leather farming. They burn ancient trees so consistently that the flames can be seen from satellite, and they create a smog so heavy that it blots out the sun. The people in Indonesia cannot see light, and the country is bathed in a sickly yellow.

How is _Kim Possible_ supposed to stop that age old practice?

"_We'll have comfort and… _

… _Comfort and Joy!_

_...joy._

… _Comfort and Joy!"_

The smoke continues to rush into her face, snot pulling from her nose and dripping over her lip. None of this makes sense. Yori trying to kill her is stupid, Kim didn't do anything. Doesn't know anything. And Kim being here is stupid. Stopping climate change is stupid, impossible even; it's inevitable.

Inevitable…

Kim smiles, she can't help it, the lip curls up the cheek and it becomes ugly.

"_Lord, we need some comfort and joy!"_

Kim pushes against Yori's grip, but her body thumps against the hot steel, neck crimped to her shoulders. She grits her teeth and thumps again but nothing. Her strength dwindles too fast, she can't keep up the fight. Maybe she should die here. Let the smoke claim her…

"_Any means you'd care to employ,_

_Won't you send us comfort and joy!"_

Kim struggles _with_ the pull this time, thumps her body closer to the edge of the smoke stack, chest hanging over nothing. Yori tries dragging Kim back, screaming at her for having a death wish, but this time Kim finds the strength she needs to stay put, to edge even closer. She cackles softly, staring down the smoke. She wants to tumble down and then burn back up into the atmosphere, poison the world with her deadly toxins so that everything can finally _die_.

She coughs. Something comes over her, ears prick up. It's that stupid song again. _Comfort and Joy_, the one Shego sang to her, or, erm, fake Shego… the hallucination, the horrible — but Sensei and Ron are gone. This is just Kim now.

"I'm no_t_ crazy," Kim tells no one in particular. Behind her, Yori flinches. Kim is flat as a board, dangling over the precipice and somehow not losing her posture, facing the onslaught of fumes, and still she speaks.

Kim draws in a phlegmy breath, shuts her eyes as she is about to be hit by something. Her neck cranes up at what would be stage lifts if this were a properly mounted play. She gulps something down and breathes out. Looks into the black void of the audience.

"_Dear God…"_

Kim doesn't _do_ tenor, but it's this new body's natural register. Her teeth slide over her lip into an overbite. A lump in her throat pops into the jaw and it's the dark register this song demands.

_"I'm still not sure why people pray…"_

Her hands break from Yori's tight grip and shift into the air, shaking as if all muscle control is gone and the hands are moving one last time.

_"... or what one does with one's hands."_

The fingers hook over her knuckles, and prop themselves into two sets of peace signs. She feigns a smile, but shoots her eyebrows up into distress.

She's losing it. Mad dog. Off leash, whatever. Can't put her down though.

Two hundred fifty one million years ago, there was an eruption in what is now called Sibeira. It blasted so much carbon dioxide into the atmosphere that there was a climate upheaval that claimed 96% of all life on Earth, almost ending civilization forever. This was the third mass extinction.

Now it is the sixth and humanity has been lucky enough to avoid the wrath of nature, but still they engineer their own deaths. They drill, they burn, they manufacture things that ought not to be made, all in the name of profit.

It's not just Hench, it's everyone. They all blindly destroy because they don't get it yet. They will never get it. Their golden tombs will shine against the gray reality. They'll be remembered as someone _important_, and no public demonstrations will stop that.

Kim feels alive more than ever in the face of imminent death. Her shoulder blades breathe in and out as if they might blast into a set of ugly, shredded bat wings. Her body crumples in, trying to appear small and pitiful. But she can't, because she's stronger than ever. Her eyes light up.

_"But please my thirst grows every day! I feel it crawl through my veins!"_

Fish eggs lie at the bottom of river beds until sea levels rise so high that the eggs are washed onto the grass, where the fish die. Nothing is born that can be eaten. People in the villages starve, the words _climate change_ on their lips. Yet the most powerful country in the world sticks its fingers in its ears.

Still the ancient trees burn. Every day, every _moment._

Kim feels Yori's grip loosen on her back, something is happening. Something is affecting this foolish woman. She will regret that… in time.

_"Please won't you change the way I am. Or prove I'm human underneath…"_

Kim rears her head higher, but chokes. She's not supposed to see it she's sure, but blue sparks come from her mouth and whisk around her lips before vanishing. She chokes again and knows that it's Ron inside her. She can feel his heartbeat, his tentative hand about to take her by the shoulder. To convince her that he's not the bad guy… for some reason. That's not what's happening, but it's where his stupid, _putrid_ mind always goes.

Also:

_That fucking liar._

Let him see what he's done, let him see who she is now. What he's been trying to deny ever since he accidentally slaughtered her lover, and blamed everyone else for his own reckless behavior.

Kim's body smashes against the metal and she screams the words.

"**Or if you just don't give a damn!**"

She hunches her shoulders and spits — actually spits — into the smoke stack, tongue lashing like it's trying to flick off poison.

_"You could at least get rid of theeeeeeeese!"_

Her canines slip from her mouth, nearly drawing blood from her own lips. The music swells in her chest. She explodes, every little bone in her body stretching its farthest, body expanding with the music as if she herself might become bat.

She's going to consume everything — because she knows now how to take over the world — she knows the last piece of her master plan. But she is clever. She knows that her heart beats fast and that it rattles the Ron inside her. She feels his hands probing her mind again, desperate to find the plan he needs to stop her from initiating, but it's locked away. He can't find the answers and it pisses him off but she — she smiles again.

_"If I can't prove them wrong, show me where I belong, for a hunger so strong kills all — "_

_The people…_ oh the people. They think that when the sea levels rise past Miami, when the ocean becomes too hot for marine life to thrive, when the lungs of the planet have been toppled in the name of toy packaging and snack foods, that everything will finally realize it's time to join hands and sing kumbaya.

Because they are complacent and _stupid_.

No. You little fools. You will do no such thing, don't you understand that it's already happening? You lose your resources, you become _dumber_. The capital city of Indonesia sinks below sea level and _the people_ decide to wage war for no reason. They decide to kill each other —

— and we're not even at end times. We still have air to breathe and food to eat. But soon. Soon…

Kim's left foot kicks out and swings into a painful angle that threatens to snap bone, and plants a foot into the outer rim of the smoke stack. She rises like a monster floating from its coffin, chest opening and arms falling to her sides. She rocks with every syllable that drips from her mouth like blood.

_"__**COM**_

_**FORT**_

_**AND**_

_**JOY!"**_

Kim takes one last whiff of the smoke, daring to die. Perhaps this is the breath that will kill her, but it miraculously doesn't. She lives. Possibly because of Ron safeguarding her from within, she's not sure. She _knows_ he's fortifying everything within with his stupid Mystical Monkey Power. Like he always has. Because he watches out for her, consciously or not, and gives her the power in times of need.

But this isn't a time of need. This is her rebirth. She needs to choke, she needs to suffer.

_"If you'd make me complete, I'd avoid all of red meat, I'll eat nothing but soy to have Comfort and Joy."_

A laugh crackles up from the bellows of her stomach and exits her lips. Yori's hands feebly try to push Kim back into the smog but it's too late. The horrible cackle, the _motif of a villian_, jerks her body back into life and her arms resist Yori.

Kim twirls on her knees and grabs Yori by the throat, for a second thinking of dunking Yori herself into the smog, but she doesn't. She thinks better of it, and lets her fist clench the neck while she imagines her plan to overthrow the world.

It's so… _doable_.

God…

What happened to her? It's almost like an aphrodisiac, this bizarre need to _rule_. Her laughter becomes crying, and she lets go of Yori's throat and throws her arms around the woman's back, pressing their bodies together until the beating chests smash into each other. Kim hangs her chin over Yori's shoulder and weeps.

Kim feels a tentative hand take her by the back and rub small circles. _Let it all out_, the kind gesture says.

Kim almost does, but then remembers how strong she is. How smart she is, and how pretty and strong and — no, fuck that. That can't be all of Kim Possible. She's more than that, right?

Kim's hand grips the katana by the handle, jolting the hilt just enough for Yori to notice. The Sensei-To-Be screams bloody murder and tries to stop Kim from snatching the katana away, but it's too late. It becomes unsheathed, and Kim's bare foot shoots out from under the gi and nails Yori square in the chest.

Yori topples off the smoke stack, but catches herself fast, turning the fall into a flip. Her limbs smash into the metal ladder and falls down several rungs before stopping her descent. She looks up at Kim with a sneer and lets go of the metal, falling several rungs before catching herself again. She repeats this until she's at ground floor.

Kim lays her heel against the cold steel and readies the katana when all of a sudden there's this horrible throbbing in her head. Her face smashes against the lip of the smoke stack and she spits blood across the metal. Runs a hand through her thinner hair and presses her teeth together.

"Get out of my head, Ron…" she sneers.

"_No,_" Ron spits back, Kim's open mouth parting for his voice to exit. "_KP, you're a mad dog now and I need to get you on a leash."_

"Fuck you!" Kim shouts, hand going limp and dropping the katana off the smoke stack. She desperately grabs the inner rim to the smoke stack and tries dragging her jelly-like body over to the smoke again. "Leave me alone!"

"_You're trying to kill my friend!_"

Kim heaves herself back over the smoke and opens wide. "She just tried to kill me and — " She coughs and spits more blood out. He coughs too, his voice echoes with hers. Good. They share the same pain threshold when he's inside her like this. So she leans deeper into the smoke and gags again. This time Ron's cry is cut short and her limbs lift back up; he's gone (for now) and she's back in control.

Kim rolls against her hip and throttles off the smoke stack, facedown. Her hands snag onto the metal rungs and like a horrible monster crawling out from a crevasse, she clambers down, legs latching onto the rungs above her. She moves fast and eventually hits ground floor, all of her limbs arched like a spider's. She _hisses_ because she's mad. Because she wants to kill. She wants Ron to know who she is.

She's a killer — though — perhaps not. That makes her head hurt. She doesn't normally want to kill anyone but right now she's angry and _that_ makes sense. Give into that, Kim. Fight.

Kim lunges at Yori but the woman slashes the katana at her — blunt side. It smacks her in the cheek and knocks her over like a cat that's been playfully shoved, but as the blade leaves her face it turns and slashes her across the cheek. It cuts deep and the blood ripples down onto her jaw.

"Stay down, I don't want to fight you, Kim, we just need to — " Yori chokes, seemingly randomly. Leans into her fist to cough and when her eyes shut, Kim is positive she sees a flash of blue. Yori's muscles shift as if she's resisting something.

"_Yori, you okay_?" Ron says from Kim's mouth.

Ron's voice seems to push all the filth inside her stomach up to her mouth, and it makes her want to vomit every time he uses her as a puppet. She leans back and vaults at Yori again, this time slipping past the katana and roundhouse kicking her in the face. Yori falls back, dropping the katana into Kim's waiting hand, and Kim prepares herself to move in for the kill when —

— Ron resists, pulling Kim back and making her drop the katana.

…

Son of a bitch.

Kim wipes some of the blood from her face and leans forward. "Leave us alone. This isn't your fight, Ron."

"_It is when you're attacking my friend, KP,_" Ron growls back.

Yori looks up from her pain and blinks. "Stoppable-san?"

"_Huh? Oh yeah, dat me and stuff,_" Ron says, using Kim's arm to wave to the girl. _"I'm possessing Kim! Isn't that cool?"_

Yori's eyes narrow. Ron _has _to know by now what Sensei did to her, right? How he possessed her and used her as a tool? … yes. Kim is pretty sure Ron knows better than to bring that up like it's no big.

But before Yori can snap a retort, her body contorts and — there's that flash of blue again — and she returns with a perfectly straight posture. Cracks her neck to the right, and gently pulls her feet free from her boots. Hands slide to the hips and she digs into the leggings, unsheathing two knives from around the knees. Her bare foot latches onto the katana, handle hooked between toes, and she leans onto just one heel. Monkey style.

Yori's jaw shifts lower when she talks now. Her voice sounds a little darker too. "_**I can handle myself, Stoppable-san. Let the Buffoon come at me.**_"

_Buffoon_. Ron's old nickname. Probably a tactic to get a rise out of Kim. But Kim holds her ground. "Ron, Sensei's possessing Yori."

"_What? No he's not, he wouldn't do that again, I like talked to him about it and stuff…_"

God, Kim wishes she could slap him. But if she slapped herself, it would hurt and probably agitate the _fucking katana wound_. Possibly open it further, so she refrains.

"Wake up, Ron," Kim snarls. "This is the man you work for."

"_Fuck you, Kim_," Ron snaps back. "_You're just lying to piss me off._"

Yori's face compresses into a smirk — because Sensei can't _not_ gloat when he's winning — and then she charges at Kim, all three limbs swinging.

All around Yori are these dead zones where Kim can't go unless she wants to get slice n' diced, not even a solid opener for her to slip in and strike. So Kim backs up, the knives just grazing her physical range. Slash slash, Kim backs up leaning back, desperate to find some kind of opening, and when she does find one —

"_Wow Yori, you're even better at the monkey style than me!_" Ron blurts out of Kim's mouth, making Kim nearly vomit and completely lose the opening.

— fucking Ron…

The katana clicks against Yori's heel and she throws her foot forward, dragging her body along with the long gait, and she lunges past Kim's range, katana coming at Kim's head… but Kim rolls back!

Scrunches into a ball on the ground, feet over her head, and she kicks back towards Yori, rolling between the woman's legs. Kim's foot shoots up to nail Yori in the skull but Yori spins out of the way, landing on one foot with all three of her deadly limbs held high over her head. Yori cackles and licks her lips.

Kim's kicking foot slams into the cement, and she steadies herself, haunches raised past the waist, and she charges at Yori. She punches at the head, misses, and follows up with a flying kick to the jaw, but that misses too. The impact of the hard pavement shoots up to Kim's knees when she lands, and for a second she grimaces.

This is impossible. How she can possibly beat Yori imbued with Sensei's mad energy when Ron is holding her back at every turn? That _has_ to be why she keeps missing, this isn't like her at all.

"Ron," Kim groans, falling back to regroup. "Please believe me. Sensei's inside Yori right now, can't you feel his presence?"

"_No,_" Ron says, Kim's shoulders physically rising and falling like a shrug. It's like poison every time he takes control. It makes her wonder if he can feel her pain… he did choke on the fumes, right? Yeah… yeah, he did. Her mind is slow. Hard to think.

Kim rolls her shoulders back and lets loose a deep breath, then charges again. But this time she doesn't move all the way in, at the last second she leaps into the air, parallel to the ground, and she spins over Yori's head. Winces, knowing she's vulnerable, and prepares for the steal…

The katana slashes Kim in the back as she throttles overhead, and it cuts deep, drawing blood, possibly nicking her spinal column. She holds in the bloody anguish, and hits the ground, letting the impact quake her whole body. She feels Ron strain from miles away, and the wound begins to close itself up, resealing it all back to normal. But mid-heal, the blue light freezes and sizzles at her flesh.

"_Kim?_" Ron blurts out.

Kim focuses, shuts her eyes, really _wants_ for that wound to stop healing, and pours that same energy into her limbs. She cracks a grin when her arms lift from the newfound power, from _Ron's_ stolen power… and she remembers what Will told her on Christmas.

"_Some old power monger, she didn't have a good hold on her stuff though_.'

Kim darts forward, fists propelling her across the turf, and blue light splinters between her tightly compressed fingers. The knives swing at her but Kim drives her hands into the points, and they do draw blood, but no more than a papercut. She shoves the knives away and spins into a pirouette, landing behind Yori.

Yori turns, katana rising over her head for a lunge to the heart. But Kim's faster; she undoes the gi and throws it off her body and swings it at Yori's face, Yori who pivots right into the gi. It wraps around her head and her grip momentarily loosens. Kim drags Yori forward and brings a knee into the forehead. Yori yelps, and when Kim throws the gi back onto her bare shoulders, it's coated in blood.

She wraps it tight and motions for Yori to get closer. Yori growls and moves ahead, vaulting into the air this time. The three blades all come down from above but Kim's ready for this.

Kim swings her fists in a flurry, blue sparks fending off the knives as if Kim wields her own blades. She doesn't hesitate and hits hard, managing to push Yori back, Yori whose eyes widen in fear, Yori who possibly thumps her leg against the ground in panic.

Yori brings the katana in from above, swinging down like an ax, and Kim raises a foot into a split, flat of her foot striking the blade of the katana and freezing it in the air.

There's this moment where neither party moves, both locked in excruciating pain, neither wanting to push the envelope further. But Kim wants to survive more than Yori so she latches her first foot onto the katana, wrapping her toes around the steel, and uses the leverage to kick her second foot into Yori's jaw.

Kim hits home and spins in the air like a torpedo, landing on her feet, left hand steadying her balance, while Yori rubs more of the gushing blood from her lips. The woman groans and comes at Kim again, but Kim's ready for it. Kicks and punches galore, all of them throwing up blue energy to push Yori back. So Kim pushes more and slips through her own defenses to strike Yori.

Which flips a switch.

Yori throws up her own blue energy this time; she has to. Or rather, Sensei has to. So blue shields pop out of thin air, defending Kim's own lashing. But _still _Ron doesn't notice. He's probably focusing on how Kim shouldn't hurt Yori because _Yori's his friend _— then Kim pauses.

Thinks.

Ron can read Kim's mind, she knows that. So she tries reversing that on him too while she's in control. Her metaphysical hand probes through Ron's mind, scooping through all of the guck, and he gets squeamish. How do you like that Ron?

And sure enough Kim is right — that _is _what Ron was thinking about.

So Kim arcs her leg high over her head again — body straining, groin pulling on her pelvis to _not_ move like this — but she does anyways and swings the foot down like a mallet. Yori's arms don't block it in time so she throws up a shield over her face. The heel drags against the energy, burning and roasting its own skin, sparks kicked up from the impact. Dragging. Dragging.

Finally, Ron catches it and he grabs the wheel, pushing Kim back by the chest. She lands on her feet, trying to catch her breath, but Ron won't let her. He uses her as a mouthpiece again.

"_Sensei?! What are you doing!?"_

Yori drags a fist through the blood on her jaw and leers at Ron carefully. Her mouth shudders as she herself is trying to speak, but Sensei's croak overtakes her. "_**Yori is not willing to do what is necessary."**_

"_Yeah, and kill Kim?"_ Ron shrieks. "_That's your idea of 'necessary?'"_

Yori's shoulders shrug with some wear n' tear, as if suppressing a heavy load. "_**Perhaps.**_**"**

"Ron," Kim manages to squeak out before Ron snaps back. "He's trying to pit us all against each other, don't you see?"

"_Yeah, well you're a bad guy now, Kim, I don't care,"_ Ron frowns.

A little flash of red in Kim's eye. "I'm not a — even if I was Ron, in your stupid black and white reality, it's more complicated than that. It's all gray, Ron. Don't you get that?! Please listen to me for once"

"_Tsch,_" Ron shudders. "_Sounds like an excuse. Life's not a stupid book report on Julius Caesar or whatever._"

Kim screams because she can't think of anything else more appropriate, and she darts forward again. Nothing will get through the boy's thick skull, so Kim moves ahead and then feints Yori out, doubling back, provoking exactly what she wanted.

Yori leaps into the air, foot still clutching the katana, and blasts at Kim like a tornado. Kim rubs her jaw and steams ahead, moving fast enough to get under Yori just before Yori's descent gets too low, and Kim leaps up, wedging Yori's outstretched knee over her shoulder and with a horrible crack, splinters the knee against her arm in a direction it ought to not go.

Yori teeters against Kim's hold, dropping one of the knives.

Kim shuts her eyes and throws herself backwards, legs planted and locked against the throw of her hips, and Yori tumbles into the cement first. Then, like a tricky game of _Twister!_ Kim launches one leg above her head and contorts herself into a pretzel, leg shooting beyond what she believed to be her range, and stomps against Yori's head, smashing the woman's open mouth against stone.

There's a wisp of blue from Yori's throat telling Kim that she won. So Kim gets up and grabs Yori by the tank top and drags her across the floor. The woman doesn't move because apparently Kim really did knock Sensei out of her.

Kim groans and throws Yori against a metal vat, leaning in close and smashes a hand into the woman's throat. Yori's legs kick feebly, blood trickling into one of her eyes, as Kim leers in closer, fingers sinking deeper into the throat.

"Why?" Kim almost spits. She feels a movement in her arms, probably the Mystical Monkey Power returning back to Ron, Ron who is too numb to retort here, Ron who is too stupid to protect his _friend_. "Why did you keep suffocating me? I told you what I knew, Yori."

Yori gasps and looks up Kim's arm, eyes narrowed. "You were lying. You know more."

"I don't!" Kim snaps. "I told you I thought you and Hench were like an official bad guy team-up! That's all I got!"

Yori's face falls. "You're serious?" Her voice is strained, throat closing in too much for nice, full sounds. Her voice is so scratchy that it rubs even Kim's throat sore.

"Yes," Kim sighs.

"Then… then why? Why kill me?" Yori moans.

Kim blinks. She wants to kill Yori because — … ?

"Who are you doing this for?" Yori strains, chest heaving, legs kicking out in futility. "If it's for you, then finish me but if it's for — " She chokes. Last legs. " — if it's for… him…"

Kim frowns. Dips her chin into her chest and releases Yori. Meanwhile, in the back of her head, Ron is scrambling — _what's going on_, he's probably thinking. Because she remembers now, she did all this so Ron could see the real her. But this isn't the real her.

Kim gets to her feet and steps away from Yori, who bobs forward to breath. Neck red from pressure.

Kim grabs the fallen katana and raises it to her throat. The blade gently slides into place across her neck and the hairs bristle. She chokes when Ron's voice thunders out. "_Kim, what are you doing?!_"

"Last chance Ron, get out of my head or I'll do it."

Ron blinks Kim's eyes but he doesn't say anything. So Kim runs the katana across the neck like a violin pick…

What is Kim Possible?

Yes, she's pretty, smart, and strong but she's also…

… what is she?

It can't just be that, those are the obvious things, but that's not why she's standing here.

None of those qualities lead her to this moment, because those are _innate_. She was born with those.

What did she create for herself?

Ah.

Yes.

She remembers.

The katana drags against the throat and Ron screams, the pain so searing that his own presence within her dissipates. As the blood pours over her flat chest, little ginger hairs catching the filth, Kim hope that Ron spends the night licking his wounds.

She won't though. She doesn't need to.

She turns to Yori with a smile that might erupt into a cackle, and drops the katana to the floor. The wound is bad, but not bad enough to kill her, or even hold her back. She's had worse. Because… because Kim Possible...

… is resilient. First and foremost, she can withstand anything, doing whatever it takes for _the work._

Kim smiles warmly, and touches Yori's bleeding jaw. "I'm sorry. I know words don't excuse what I just did to you but…"

Yori looks up and grabs Kim's hand, her grip quaking. "I hurt you too, I — "

" — didn't have control," Kim finishes, lowering Yori's hand to her lap. "_I _did though. I'm sorry."

Yori nods and it's then that Kim notices she's crying. "Possible-san, you're — you're trying to do what is _right_. It's admirable."

Somehow, neither of them are dropping dead. It's sort of a relief, though it makes the conversation harder. So Kim fingers Yori's jaw again, fixing her eyes to look straight into her own. It's intimate, nice actually... but that's not appropriate. She's _working_ after all.

So Kim straightens her back, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Tell me — tell… _Kim Possible_, what it is you think she knows about you and Jack Hench."

It's strong enough that it evens impresses Kim herself. She smirks at the sound of that command. The voice of Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson.

Yori feels it too. Looks away, a little morose in the eyes. "I'm still working for Master Sensei. I'm not sure if Stoppable-san told you, but once Sensei passes on… I'm inheriting Yamanouchi."

Kim bristles, but waits patiently.

"I don't — " Yori's head drops. Looks from side to side, a fold darkening in her forehead. " — are you sure they can't hear us?"

Kim considers it. She's been endowed with the Mystical Monkey Power enough times to at least know when it's nearby. So she nods.

Yori draws in a heavy breath, hair falling past her face. "I don't respect Master Sensei anymore. Not after how he toyed with me like a puppet."

Kim nods again. She remembers the way Sensei's horrible blue smile twisted across Yori's cheek like a jack o'lantern. It was the same day that Shego died; Yori came into Kim's home under the pretenses of _talking_, only to nearly kill her. Turns out Sensei was controlling her the whole time.

"But I can't rebel, I don't want to lose Yamanouchi," Yori frowns. "If I were to fall from grace, I'm positive that Stoppable-san would take over… if he already hasn't."

Kim raises an eyebrow.

"I'm only _temping_ with Team Possible — "

Kim can't help it, she blurts out, "He kept the name?!"

Yori shrugs. " — yeah… listen, I know things are complicated with you two…"

"They're not," Kim snaps back, voice sinking back into an angry tenor. She touches her Adam's Apple and focuses, she needs to focus to be alto now. "He thinks he still loves me but — I know he doesn't. Because I think I love him too. But I obviously don't." Something catches Kim in the throat, this wicked burning closing her neck, and when she looks back to Yori she again sees this uncomfortable understanding; it can't be allowed. Not when she's _working_. "Sorry, that was unnecessary. Continue."

Yori steadies her gaze. "I'm only temping for Stoppable-san so that I can be Sensei's eyes and ears. I'm writing reports on Ron so that Sensei can — I don't know, honestly. He doesn't tell me. But I think it's because he's considering him for Sensei, and you know why that's dangerous."

Kim's eyes widen somewhat. She knows all too well.

"You don't have to explain to me how this happened," Yori rubs her sore knuckles as an excuse to look away. "You weren't trans until twenty minutes ago. It scares me what Stoppable-san can do. Are you okay, by the way?"

"Yeah," Kim rasps. "But Hench?"

"Ah yes, right. Hench," Yori looks back up. "I'm _officially_ here for a purpose similar to why I'm with Team Possible. Except in this case I am supposed to serve as a double agent. That's not the case for Stoppable-san… unless he decides to perform — ah — _unfavorably_."

Kim's jaw locks into place. This is a lot bigger than she ever imagined. "So… I was right? About Sensei and Hench... kinda working together?"

Yori runs a hand through her hair. "Certainly not. Their partnership will end soon, it's not productive for either party. The thing is — I took a risk. _I _suggested I work here because… well, you saw me with Dementor, right?"

Kim leans back and carefully thinks that over. Yori was with Dementor, and it didn't seem like they were ready for Kim to break into BP like that. It's not as if the duo were on security detail. They were just… talking.

Why even talk to Dementor? He's nobody. Well. Technically, he is the biggest supervillain to date — now that Shego's dead and of course, to quote the good book, _wait until they get a load of me _— and part of Hench's villain's union.

"Hench is your Plan B?" Kim asks suddenly. "You're trying to scope out whether you should just leave Sensei?"

"Yes," Yori tries to sound distant. "But I don't think I will. I owe it to Yamanouchi. I have to protect them."

So that's it then; Yori is desperate, sometimes irrational, to get this stronghold over Yamanouchi. But she's not like Betty or Sensei or Hench, those three must know they are wrong. But they've deluded themselves. Maybe Kim's like them too. Because she wants _power_.

Yori doesn't want power. She's just trying to preserve something that's dying. It makes Kim smile. How touching this woman is. How good hearted. How… useful?

Kim's stomach twists as if a knife is poking through it. It's not right to think this way, to use people for her own gain. But Sensei is in her way, and Yori can plainly see that. So Kim does the unthinkable, and extends her hand.

Yori eyes it for a moment, then looks to Kim. "What?"

"I — I want you to join me, Yori," Kim says, words slipping out naturally. Because her head is in the game and she knows how to talk like a bad guy. "We're cut from the same cloth I think. If you can understand it, I want to take over the world for the same reason that you're trying to live beyond Sensei. Because of that, I think we can help each other."

Yori has yet to crook her arm for the shake. "You _do_ want to take over the world?"

Ha. As if it's a disqualifying statement. Though perhaps Kim is too much like Sensei, and maybe Yori has a right to be scared.

Yori continues, "How do you want to unify?"

Kim thinks about that. "We burn the old man. Together."

Yori's eyes light up. Her hand lashes like a snake and grabs Kim's, Yori's grip being far more powerful. Her skin is warm. Already, thoughts explode in Yori, thankfully at the same pace as Kim's. They hatch the scheme.

"You plant yourself with me," Kim explains. "Tell Sensei that you uncovered my true plan to take over the world. Tell him I want to kill Ron and suck his powers dry — " Off of Yori's raised eyebrow, Kim interrupts herself to point out, " — that's not the actual plan though."

Yori grins. "I tell him that my mercy towards you — my _weakness_ Sensei saw fit to _fix_ — is what is allowing me into your ranks. From there, I can _protect_ Stoppable-san — " Yori stops herself too and adds on, " — which I understand is not your true intent but maybe this is a good time for me to tell you: _I will not help you take over the world."_

Kim's grip loosens as if someone punched her in the gut. Her hand goes limp and slips into the air, away from Yori. Because she can't shake on a deal like this — it's no benefit to her. She doesn't _need_ Sensei dead. She can't concern herself with _vengeance_, neither are columns in her master plan.

Kim's shoulder winds back and her arms spread wide into the air. "Can we help each other as friends then?"

Kim doesn't know why she says that. Beyond the obvious, that they are both battered women. That Kim is in group therapy for hurting herself and has no friends. Yori seems to be in purgatory and can't trust anyone. Obvious symmetries, obvious everything… okay. So Kim does know why she says that.

For a moment Yori appears to not even be close to considering it, but something in her relaxes and she shuffles forward, wrapping her arms around Kim's shoulder blades, chests pressed tightly together.

This is a bad idea — who is to say that Yori won't be that triple agent? She could just as easily serve as a double agent and ruin her — for all Kim knows, Yori does actually support Sensei and has been ordered to get close to Kim to kill her. Or ruin her.

Kim's not sure; she's supposed to make it clear that if Kim pays her this favor that Yori will sincerely owe her. Because Big "Big" Daddy doesn't just _do_ nice things out of generosity, Big "Big" Daddy has her own needs.

Kim touches Yori's hair, it's coarser than she expected. But still, her fingers can slip through strands and her palm can touch Yori's scalp. Kim nuzzles closer to Yori and shuts her eyes. Tomorrow she can be Big "Big" Daddy.

Today, she will just be Kim.

* * *

**A/N:** _Sorry that took so long._

_I'm really happy with this chapter. I hope you appreciated the fight choreo, the weird Bat Boy references, and the twisted prose. Kim's a bit of a 'Bombad Jedi' in this version of I'm Scared Too, but don't worry, like that one guy who got turned into a newt, she does get better._

_One thing I want to be clear on early in is this though: The last version of I'm Scared Too posted was K/R. This version is not. Kim and Ron do not end up together in this, and he's pretty much the villain of the story if you can believe it. I know a lot of KP readers love Ron so I want to get in front of this early. _

_Anyways, next chapter should be out soon! It's going to be another two-parter, this one getting more into how Kim actually functions as the head of the Bermuda Triangle. After that, we'll do a solo Ron story for Chapter 6 to catch up with him. Overall, this is a much more streamlined version of the original I'm Scared Too that's less intense on plot and more focused on character. I know these past 2 chapters were nuts, but the whole story won't be like this like last time. _

_Anyways, thanks for reading! Love you guys and have a happy!_


	4. Shego-Lite

_Edna walked on down to the beach rather mechanically, not noticing anything special except that the sun was hot. She was not dwelling upon any particular train of thought. She had done all the thinking which was necessary after Robert went away, when she lay awake upon the sofa till morning._

_..._

…

_..._

**En Route to the Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
February 2, 2008: 9:54AM**

Kim does not very much like being driven around by other parties, nor does enjoy having to sit in the back seat. But that kind of security detail is the imaging of a crime lord like herself, and at least Kim liked Rhino.

Ever since returning from London, Kim has been trying desperately to avoid calling Drakken again. Not like the old coot would pick up, and even if he did, what's the best case scenario? Kim already has her world conquering plan in the bag, she very objectively doesn't need his advice.

But still… she wants helpt.

So she borrows Kate Chopin's only novel, _The Awakening_, from the library. She plows through it fast, fingers gently pushing down on the penultimate pages.

_But when she was there beside the sea, absolutely alone, she cast the unpleasant, pricking garments from her, and for the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air, at the mercy of the sun, the breeze that beat upon her, the waves that invited her._

Kim brushes a sleeve against her eyes; she already knows the ending to this story. She knows why Edna Pontellier is at the beach and what she intends to do.

"'Ey, you alright back there, KP?" Rhino asks, readjusting the rear-view so he can see his pal, KP, squished into the back like a child.

Kim looks up from the novella and slides it into her lap. "Yeah, I'm fine, Rhino."

"Dat's a sad book, isn't it?" For a second, Kim thinks that Rhino is only saying that because he picked up on the obvious — her tears. But then he continues, "Kate Chopin's stuff is pretty sad."

Kim's hands feel weightless, one crunches into her thigh and she barely notices. "Well, yeah, I mean a lot of books are sad, aren't they?"

"Lotta movies too, a-and musicals," Rhino looks back to the jam-packed roads. He's probably going to get her there late… "Call me a nutjob, but I kinda like that they made the ending happier for _Little Shop _when they did it with Rick Moranis and — "

" — Steve Martin, I know, Rhino," Kim hates it when her voice gets icy like this. It's not who she wants to be. "You've mentioned."

Kim watches Rhino's wide eyes focus on her a moment longer before hitting the road again. She takes in a deep breath and lifts the book back to her face.

— _but it was too late; the shore was far behind her, and her strength was gone. She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father's voice and her sister Margaret's. She heard the barking of an _—

Kim's clammy hands squeeze into the pages, wrinkling them. She manages to blot the word _old_ with a fat tear.

— _old dog that was chained to a sycamore tree. The spurs of a cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air._

The pink cover slaps over the book and that's it. Kim wipes her eyes again though it likely makes no difference now. The rush passing by her ears slows to a crawl and the car slides into its private parking spot. There's a couple pitter patters from the front seat, and Kim sees Rhino dip below the bottom of his seat to slide it back so that he can fit between the chairs and face her.

In his giant palm is a makeup kit. His other hand gives her some tissues. She grabs one right away and blows snot into it. "Thanks Rhino," she manages to croak.

"NP KP," Rhino gives a weak smile then checks for time and nods, fingers nervously drumming the dashboard behind him. "Hey. Um. I don't wanna sound out of line saying 'dis Kim, but um — "

He flinches when her eyes rise to his; is this the effect she really wants to make on people?

Rhino itches his cheek and looks at her carefully. " — I, uh… know you've been really strugglin' lately and I know it's none of my business but I think you're hurting yourself reading books like dat."

Little green embers burn into Kim's irises. "Excuse me? Rhino, I'm — this is _helping_ me. She — she — she knows how I feel…"

Rhino's lips draw into themselves.

Oh, this hurts a lot.

"I don't know, Kim," Rhino sinks back into his seat, as if maybe he'll look less imposing this way. "I think that when you read that kinda stuff and you're already sad — it's like flaying yourself, right?"

There's that burning again. Right at the lip of the eyelids, threatening to fill in the crackling dry half-moons of skin under her eyes. She sucks it in and something familiar lashes out.

"Well what do you want me to say, Rhino?! That I'm suicidal and need help, is that it?!"

Rhino's wincing, but not as much as he would if _he didn't see this coming._ His shoulder fully turns away from her and he touches the wheel, even though they're already parked.

"Rhino — " It catches in her throat. "I'm sorry. Shit, I shouldn't have — "

Rhino shrugs. "Nah, what do I know? You're right, KP, I shouldn't be judgin' and…"

Kim leans ahead and takes him by the palm, looks into his round face. So not how Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson is supposed to treat her subordinates.

"Rhino. I'm sorry."

* * *

The patrons of the Bermuda Triangle try not to be obvious about turning heads to face the great Kim Possible as she passes by, but Kim catches each and every glance. She used to be better at handling the fame, now it's insufferable. She bets they're judging her.

**The Bermuda Triangle Main Room: San Francisco, California  
February 2, 2008: 10:02AM**

It doesn't feel like Kim should be here. Sure, she's Big "Big" Daddy now and these are _her _clubs now — but people know what the Bermuda Triangle is, and for Kim's plan to work, people need to not know that she's in charge of a crime syndicate.

Maybe they could make her a secret entrance or something.

It's even odder now that she's only sixteen years old — the padded bra and foam hips cake on enough fat that it's not obvious, but she's in a different body now and that's another thing she needs people to not notice.

She stops by the bar and grabs an Iced Tea, taking a moment to check herself in her hand mirror. The suit definitely makes her feel powerful, though she's heard what they say about her in the backroom.

_Shego-lite._

Yeah, yeah, Shego wore the same thing except her tie was green and Kim's is red. Kim _also_ has a different haircut! Bob with a bald patch on the right, though it's growing back in…

… point is, she's _not_ Shego. She'll _never_ be Shego. But that doesn't mean she wants to forget about what happened.

Though her face flushes when she reaches for the glass and the cuff of her blazer pulls away from the wrist exposing the pastel 'kiddie bracelet' Rhino makes her wear as sort of an in-joke between them. Because of the time she, ya know, got totally hammered and destroyed the Bermuda Triangle in Paris…

Kim giggles and the pretty drink splashes down her chin. How on Earth did she become Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson after _that_?

* * *

The meeting room is cold. The old one used to be kind of humid, a li'l sweaty spaghetti for you, but there was this weirdly nice presence to it. Kinda like lying inside of a waterbed.

…

That actually sounds not fun, but you get the vibe. That's Big Daddy Brotherson. Lounging around on his little cushion, keen to play silly games with the lowliest filth of the criminal underground. One time, Kim herself played a silly game with the old man. A game of charades she remembers.

He mimed: _I like your vision. _It's the day she got hired.

**The Bermuda Triangle Meeting Room: San Francisco, California  
February 2, 2008: 10:13AM**

Now the meeting room is cold, and square-shaped. Big Daddy gets rolly wheels for his chair, that's about as fun as it gets. Beyond that, it's the three of them squeezed around a plain gray table, a little coffee pot in the corner surrounded by sugars and creamers. But the three of them each drink their coffee black, and it's not like anyone new is going to ventura back here because this is the Brain Trust…

… she's overthinking it.

"Sorry I'm late," Kim slides into her chair.

Hank looks up from his closed hands and raises an eyebrow, keen eyes already digging into her slightly altered appearance.

Big Daddy on the other hand doesn't notice. His tiny legs kick up to his waist and he slides deeper in. "Would it kill you to be on time for once? First you strike my silly games, then you make me do a 9-5 and I must say, I do _not_ do corporate."

Hank snorts, momentarily distracted from Kim. "Oh, fuck you, Big Daddy, you _love _corporate, don't listen to him, Kim. So, uh, what is the, um, sitch?"

Kim smirks and playfully slaps Hank across the upper arm. "Ha ha," she says dryly. "I'm trying, sorry. I thought the weekly meetings would be a good idea — seeing how the three of us don't really know how to work together."

"Well, _we_ do," Hank shrugs. "And I mean the royal _we_ — "

"I know."

"Okay," Hank leans back and looks at her with a bemused expression. "I'm sorry, I need to ask, did you do something to your face while you were in London? Your face seems less round — "

"Oh Hank," Big Daddy's frown is as wide as a whale's. "You don't just ask someone that. Besides, you of all people should know, Ms. Kimberly Ann doesn't take our money. How could she afford plastic surgery?

"Ah yes, the wonderful director of this lovely little non-profit…"

Kim's eye twitches. "Hey, cut it out. That thing with the HIV drugs was important, and they actually announced a few days ago they're lowering the price back to normal."

Hank shrugs. "As _members of the community_ — ohmigod Kim, stop, you knew this already — Big Daddy and I thank you bu_t_… well, there is a question, right?"

Hank's spindly shoulder presses into Big Daddy's burly one like a sleepy kitty… how did Kim not notice this before? She frowns, suddenly feeling very lonely. She says, "I want to talk about London, can we do that?"

Hank smiles to himself and leans back. "If you want."

It's hard not to grind her teeth; but she knows she does enough of that in her sleep and that's why she has so many headaches now. Apparently it's a stress thing called TMJ.

"Fine, what's your question?" Kim sighs.

"I thought you wanted to talk about London," Hank snaps back.

Big Daddy cuts in, "Hank, don't be so passive aggressive. Kimberly Ann — "

Ugh. _Kimberly Ann_. It sounds a lot more refined from Big Daddy's mouth, but it still flashes her back to the old guys, when the evil blue doctor would laugh from up high and call her that stupid nickname. Kim raises a hand to stop him, but is too slow on the draw.

" — last meeting you spoke very eloquently about climate change and while we both know that it's an issue — why do _we_ — not the royal we — have to be the ones to fight it?"

Kim stutters, then shuts her mouth. She was supposed to come up with an answer to this, and there is one — her master plan that she so recently conceived. But she can't tell Hank and Big Daddy what the plan is, they'd call her crazy.

God, why can't they just _trust_ her?

Maybe she doesn't trust them…

"Because it's our gateway I think," Kim says with some agitation. "Now can I tell you about BP?"

"If you must," Hank slips in.

"Hank," Big Daddy says sternly.

"Okay so," Kim briefly rummages through her blazer and pulls out a small device. Something she lifted from the Team Possible days. Just a basic projection device. It slides to the center of the table, and emits blue light showing some scans of the paperwork from BP. After her little _tiff _with Yori ended, Kim had plenty of time to gather intel.

"We know when BP is drilling, we kinda know where, I have some vague coordinates, but we're going to need a boat and an able crew to run it. I have a few contacts from the old days, but we'd have to be discreet about being a crime syndicate."

"Why?" Hank asks dryly. "I mean — I don't even want your contacts."

Kim represses an _Ugh_ in her chest. "Okay, um, well — I don't know, I don't have boat-themed villains we could recruit either. Unless there's someone I'm forgetting, and even then Hench probably bought them off to be part of his evil uni—oh! Right! I forgot, Hench _owns_ BP."

Big Daddy's baby hands curl into bouncy ball sized fists. "Ooh, I do despise Hench."

Hank rolls his eyes — typical of him by the way, he's worked for both Big Daddy and Hench, because he's a freaking vulture — and leans forward. "I'm not so sure stopping the drilling is going to help — we'd be better off slamming Hench with some bad PR."

"Well, we already did that with the NRA," Kim says.

"Yeah, but you _cheated_," Hank groans. "You transferred money from the NRA to Hench directly. Listen, Kim, I know you're used to having the world as your oyster but we're kind of a tight operation right now."

Kim's mouth falls slack like a puppet with a broken jaw.

"Sure, we have money now— but that last gig? That cost a lot of money. From shipping all the ashes to crafting a trough matched to the dimensions of that building, and — well, you know, you conceived it. But it's _expensive_, and you've kinda been holding us back on the usual gambits."

Kim crosses her arms and looks over to Big Daddy. Unbelievable. She's Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson for crying out loud! Since when was it okay to mouth off at her like this?

"And what is the usual gambit? Because last time I checked, we only crossed paths twice in all my years of crime fighting, and both times you weren't even the baddie, Big Daddy."

Big Daddy furrows his brow. "I like that, _you weren't even the baddie, Big Daddy_, Hank could you write that dow—thank you. Erm. Yes, Miss Kimberly Ann. The Bermuda Triangle up until around the time you _blew up my club in Paris_ has been founded on the values of — um — murdering people and finding out things we're not supposed to — _ah ah_! No, let me finish — and selling the intel for money."

Kim's spine crumples like an accordion. She nervously runs a hand through her hair. "I want us to stop the drilling."

"Why?" Big Daddy retorts.

"_Why?_" Kim retorts back. "Because — because — " Because one of the most obvious things triggering climate change is massive projects like this one? Because my master plan relies on stopping climate change and then… then… "_Because I said so_!"

Big Daddy and Hank both lean back as if slapped across the face with a fish. Hank is the first to come back from that one. "_Because I said so_? Well that's a nice little microcosm of this whole _sitch_ isn't it? _Why are we all of a sudden fighting the HIV epidemic? "Because I said so!" _ _Why are we all of a sudden listening to you now that Shego's dead? "Because I said so!" Why is _— " Hank freezes and bites his tongue.

Both Kim _and _Big Daddy are standing. Though Kim doesn't understand why Big Daddy is so disgruntled.

"Don't you dare bring her up like that," Kim's voice gets icy again. It sucks. She probably looks so foolish dressed up like the dead mercenary, her little gay heart getting all flustered at the thought of those pine-scented lips closing around hers — even though Shego never loved her. "I'm — I need to go."

* * *

Why do things always have to get so messed up? Her life was supposed to even out after Kim became Big "Big" Daddy but what does she have to show for it? A depressing office. More depressing than her broom closet studio that Shego somehow pays for from beyond the grave.

**The Bermuda Triangle Meeting Room: San Francisco, California  
February 2, 2008: 10:27AM**

Kim slams the door behind her and immediately slips off the blazer, letting it fall to the floor. She yanks the black blouse from under the belt and rolls up her sleeves, briefly freezing at the sight of auburn hairs curled along her arms. She takes a seat and her hands clap against her head, another migraine settling in.

Kim's office is pretty ordinary. Light blue carpet that's turning gray from age, white walls, a book shelf, and desk. No windows, no pictures, nothing.

She moves her mouse to get her computer out of sleep mode, immediately drafting up something for Yori.

_Hey Yori. Just had my first meeting, to be honest, I forgot to pitch you to my team. Things got a little heated._

_No Kim, you can't say that._ She deletes everything up until the word _meeting_ and tries again, fingers moving faster.

_Hey Yori. Just had my first meeting. Schedule was a little packed so I didn't get to pitch you to my team. Sorry. I'll make sure it happens though. _

_By the way, do you know how to drive a boat? I need a crew and apparently my list of people who did me favors don't count for squat anymore, Hank doesn't like me flkm;skljefwwo_

Her hands smash into the keys making a whole mess. She clears out the whole message. This is a professional email, Possible, not an entry for LiveJournal. She looks at the blank email, the | flashing in an out while she tries to think of a good word to start on. Ultimately, she chooses none and trashes the whole thing.

She just sits there. Doing nothing.

_Do something Kimmie. You're a stupid crime lord now, who cares that you feel like shit? Do the work, Princess._

Maybe she could try drafting that message to Dementor, giving him an offer to join her team but then… no. He kinda saw her freak out at BP Headquarters. Might not be the best idea.

_Tsch. Everyone's seen you freak out by now. There's bets all over the internet right now on when you're going to freak out next you loser…_

Don't think about her right now, Kim. Think about — Mugsy and Vinny! Her two freelance guys, she thought they were good at Gilead! She could reach out with a formal offer, make 'em into contract boys. That would —

_Hiring common criminals? Wow, somebody's desperate. Where's the heavy hitters? Your Bonekiller McGees and your Cronko Donkos?_

Bonekiller McGee and Cronko Donko? Those aren't real — Kim googles their names and sure enough, there used to be two famous hitmen who went by those names and nothing else. Six feet under now, both of them. Wait — how did she _know_ about them?

_You know because I know, Princess._

_No, you're dead, Shego. Somehow infesting my mind, I don't know. But hands off. No more. _

_Heh heh. Hey, hey. Wanna see something crazy? Turn the computer off. Or into sleep mode or whatever the shit. _

Kim looks over her shoulder, eyeing each little crevasse. Her office is too plain to be hiding some kind of auditory device. She scratches her neck to find a bug and doesn't feel anything out of the ordinary. So how the fuck is she hearing Shego's — God, she's pathetic, she actually shut her computer off, not consciously or anything but —

— oh God —

Kim nearly falls out of her chair, and quickly swats at the computer to turn it away. Because on it is the snickering image of Shego, with some of her jaw crumbled away into bare bone. A slash gouging out the right eye, but her teeth still sharp, biting into her own lip. She laughs and Kim grabs at her phone, dialing for Drakken again, because she's crazy, she's actual crazy, and maybe he'll have the answ—

_Ring. Ring._

—ers.

_Click_.

Deep breath.

"_Hey, dummies, Doctor D is not in. Probably off baki—_"

Kim screams and the phone falls off her desk. But before she can even let out a sob, there's a tentative knock at the door. Kim looks up from her folded arms and bites her lip. "Come in."

The door creaks open and to Kim's dismay, it's Hank on the other side and he actually looks a little remorseful. His squeaky shoes kick like a horse with each step, and Kim quickly gets out from behind the desk. She'd rather do this standing up. Kind of a tell-all signal to make it quick.

But once Kim rounds around the corner, she immediately spots Rhino in the background, looking even more remorseful. She freezes in place and stares daggers at Hank. "What? Is he your backup incase I resist?"

Hank throws hands in the air. "No, no, just — you were awfully loud, Kimberly. I was concerned. _Am_ concerned. What's going on with you?"

She narrows her eyes and brushes past him, jabbing a finger at Rhino's chest. "Car. Now."

"But KP — "

"Rhino," Kim chastises. "_Now_."

The big lug turns on his heel and slouches off. A familiar heat comes into her chest. She tries to push back to when she first felt this and it was — ah. Paris. When the snow fell in September, and Ron called and somehow Kim just _knew_ it was his fault.

And she was right. It sucks to be right.

Hank motions for Kim's desk but she remains still, filling the doorway up well.

"Okay, fine, we'll do it here," Hank groans and gets closer. "We're not a little non-profit, we don't get donations, we _make what we need to work_. If you want to stop global warming, fine, but don't expect this tank to run on empty forever."

Her fist curls up and she finds herself thinking of what a puny little man Hank is. No concept of scale, all about numbers, and… and… she slumps against the wood, eye peeking past her hair to really look at him. "I know," she sighs. "I — I just don't know how we can make money, beyond the obvious."

The harsh lines in Hank's age soften and for once the man looks his age. "Well, uh, yes, and we all knew there'd be an adjustment period, but — ugh, you make it so hard with that puppy dog pout of yours."

She fully extends her neck. She wasn't even doing a puppy dog pout on purpose. Sighs and straightens her back. "Hank, I don't know what I'm doing."

"Clearly," he snorts before relaxing back into something friendly. "You know, there's a reason I'm the _Big Time Villainy Consultant. _The whole point of my job is giving you access to workshop with me. I'm not pissed or anything that you're struggling — I would too if I were a washed up teen hero."

"Hey!" Kim frowns.

"Oh, not there yet are we?" Hank crosses his arms.

"No, um — " she looks up at him from her shrinking posture. He's one of her only lifelines yet. And it doesn't seem like he outwardly wants to use her… right? If Hank really wanted someone else in the Big Dog Chair, he'd arrange for Kim's murder probably. She rubs her throat at the thought and leans up.

Hank actually seems a little surprised off that. "Well good! Okay, cool, so let's get to work then!"

"Wh-what do you mean?"

He blinks. "We figure out what to do, how to, as you and Drakken called it, _take over the world._"

She raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on, Kimberly. Don't convince me that you have a plan, because let's be honest, even our evil janitors can tell that you've been making up shit as we go."

She blinks. For some reason, she feels very sluggish. It's hard to follow. "What"

He blinks back. "The — uh — plan, your take over the world master pla—are you okay? You look awful. Maybe you should get a coffee."

She nods and rubs her eyes. "I do need one but I don't want to talk about this right now."

A flash of red in his eyes. "What? No, Kim, I — I don't have the authority to make you sit down and do this, but if you are so intent on saving the world or taking over the world or whatever, then show some respect to the _work _and — "

She squeezes the bridge of her nose. "Hank, I have a plan."

He briefly freezes, clearly not having any idea that was the case. "What? Okay. Well, um, then tell me. What's the plan?"

She considers it.

"No."

* * *

"Could I do an Americano?"

"Huh? Oh, um, I can make you some regular ol' coffee but an Americano…"

**The Bermuda Triangle Main Room: San Francisco, California  
February 2, 2008: 1:38PM**

Kim averts her eyes for a moment; she hates doing this but she's been left with no other option.

"Do you know who I am?"

She lets that dangle in the air for a moment and within seconds the bartender comes to some sort of realization — be it that she's Kim Possible or Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson — doesn't matter, he sets to work.

She smiles to herself and folds her arms over the bar. She peeks over her shoulder and sees the loaded floor. Her floor. An ugly crackle forms under her eye and she almost laughs to herself.

Oh to be powerful.

"Hang on, man. Whatever she's getting, make it two."

Kim turns to her right to see a well-built guy staring her down from a few stools over. Greek with a hawk-like nose, an array of black curls around his rough skin, beady eyes, and a smile that's anticipating _a lot._ He struts over, dressed in dirty black jeans, a generic t-shirt, and leather jacket.

"You go through a break-up or something?" he says with some bounce.

When she doesn't seem to get it, he gestures to the get-up. "Girl who used to work here dressed like that all the time."

Kim raises an eyebrow. So this guy knows Shego — _knew_ Shego… "What does that have to do with a break-up?"

He strokes his thick mustache. "Ah, well I know gay guys date dudes who look like them all the time, so I figured maybe lesbos dress like each other. Since no babe could ever look the same as the other." He grins, it's a little infectious. He purrs, and automatically it's a turn-off. "It's fun being a misogynist." He lashes out his tongue in a facetiously malicious way and honestly that's kind of a turn-on. Though Kim doesn't really want to date men right now, and he's also at least twice her original age.

But Kim shrugs and looks away. "Yeah, I guess I'm going through a break-up, though I guess we were never actually dating… I miss her."

"Yeah. Same," he pivots and presses his back to the bar, hands stuffed into his pockets. "You're lucky, you know? Dating Sheila, I mean."

"Your drinks, closed or open tab?"

"Open," the guy nods. "Sheila was… something else. Agh! What is this gook? It's all black and shit — "

" — it's coffee — " Kim sighs, dragging her mug over, thin lips prickling at the taste on her tongue. " — and _I'm _under-aged_. _Closed tab by the way._"_

"Fuck," the Greek man gently punches the table. "You're Kim Possible, aren't you?"

"Yup," she drawls.

"Shit," he shakes his head. "I want to be up front, I wasn't hittin on you or nothin'. _So not my type._"

Kim grins. It's fascinating, this guy is popping with masculine bravado yet he says some of the most effeminate things, but that boyish panache keeps him pretty hetero.

"So how'd you know Shego?" Kim asks after one extended sip.

The man brings the mug to his lips, a little surly about drinking coffee instead of booze. "Same profession for a hot second."

"And I'm guessing it wasn't in the superhero biz."

"Heh," he smirks. "Whatever gave you that idea, milady?"

She rests an elbow up on the bar, pivoting to face him fully. "Who are you?"

"A professional assassin, dontcha know?"

Kim frowns. So _this_ is the kind of crowd her club attracts, or maybe even the people that _she_ attracts. "Shego wasn't really an assassin. She did mercenary work obviously, but her work was focused more on — "

The guy makes a little fart noise with his mouth, then waves her off. "Tsch, no wonder you're telling me you were in a fake relationship. Sweetie, honey, babydoll, pussycat, whatever, _Shego killed people like crazy_."

Maybe Shego did, but Kim never saw it! She just saw Shego go under… though admittedly, when she was freaking out in Paris after leveling the Bermuda Triangle, Shego was the one rubbing circles in her back, coaching her through handling your first kill. Because Shego was really casual about that kind of stuff…

"You're right," Kim sighs. "Um — did you know her personally?"

"Why? Fishing for some hot goss? 'Cause I got none to tell," the guy says. "You had it bad for her, huh?"

"Yes," Kim says fast. Despite everything, she still does. "I live in her old studio. She still provides for me and…" She frowns; she really shouldn't be telling this to a stranger. But something about this guy's eyes tell her it's okay. They're so wide and innocent, his voice so bubbly.

"Huh," the guy tilts his head to the side. "Interesting deets about your personal life. I owe you some hot goss now I guess. Hm. Let me think…" He drums his fingers against the bar, even though she can tell by the look in his eyes that he already knows what to tell her. The floof of his beard cushions his cheek from his rough looking palm..

"I used to be a do-gooder, and I kinda hated it. Shego's the one who taught me that you can always turn a new leaf for the — uh — worse."

Kim nods along, a thought already instantly coming to her mind. Just takes her a moment to weedle out whether or not she should actually say it. "Do you think I teach that to kids?"

"Huh? You? No! No fucking way," he laughs. "Why? You a bad guy or something?" He drinks some coffee. "Because I was wondering why you were hanging here. In a bad guy suit."

"It's not a bad guy suit," Kim blushes.

"Eh, I'd call it a bad guy suit," the guy flicks her in the chest. "Don't get me wrong, it's cute on you but — "

"Hey Nong Man!" a chipper voice shouts from across the room. Definitely Hank. Kim looks over her shoulder and sure enough sees the elitist poindexter waving from across the floor. She looks back to this 'Nong Man' to find him totally aloof.

"Um, I think Hank wants you," Kim points out.

"Nah, dude said _Hang on, man_, sounds similar, but very differe—"

"Hang on, man, I said _Hey Nong Man._"

"Oh, did you? My b, my b!"

The two men shake hands, but Kim quickly puts a stop to it, grabbing Hank's wrist and guiding it away. "Hank, what are you doing?"

"Oh, you know this guy?" Nong Man chuckles, hoisting both elbows behind him onto the bar. "You're way more _bad guy_ than you let on, Possible."

"Uh huh, yeah, whatever," Kim swipes some hair from her eyes and drops down onto her shiny shoes, heels clicking against the floor. "Hank. What are you doing?"

Hank frowns and rubs his neck. "Um — shit, you weren't supposed to — " He catches Nong Man's confused gaze and doubles back. " — let's talk about this later, shall we? Sorry, Nong Man, just a confusion with — "

"You're Big "Big" Daddy!" Nong Man suddenly cries out, with such jubiliance that Kim actually smacks her hands over his mouth and presses him back, shushing him like a librarian. She pulls back and Nong Man wipes the spit from his lips. "Li'l handsy, Kimmie. But shit yeah, I knew that the — uh — O.G. Big "Big" dropped recently and I was wondering who — but nope, not O.G. Big but — well — _you_!"

Kim squeezes the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, but don't tell anyone. Hank, could you — "

"Tsch! Don't be so dismissive, Kimmie!" Nong Man laughs, clapping her on the back. "We're going to be coworkers, soon. Ain't that right, Hank?"

Hank gulps. "Little presumptuous, but you are leading the pack — "

"What pack?!" Kim almost spits, lifting Nong Man's arm off her shoulders. "W-wait — you're not — "

"Kim, I can — we should have talked about this, sorry, I just figured — " Hank swivels his tie like a pendulum. " — that you weren't ready. But, according to the hierarchy I set up…"

Hank swallows, lips a little dry. He takes Nong Man's Americano and gulps it down fast, wiping his lips and looking at Kim. "Shego's dead, Kim, and if we're going to be serious, we need to replace her."

"But — "

"Kim, you have to know that's the way to go."

Kim lunges forward but Nong Man catches her. She punches him off and he steps back, hands splayed in the air. Still smiling though. "Kiddo, it really is and — "

"We are not hiring killers, Hank," Kim barks without looking at Nong Man. "I don't want assassins on our payroll — "

Hank raises a finger to the air, bites his lip, and swallows. But when Kim keeps on rambling, he can't help himself and cuts in. "Kim you _are _a killer."

Kim pauses. Takes a second to catch up. "I didn't kill Will Du — he did that to himself, he — " She catches Nong Man's bemused eyes, and she can already tell he's got something snarky cooked up to sugarcoat that she really is a murderer. So she swats the air and storms off. "No more interviews without my sayso, got it?!"

"Kim, I — " Hank rushes forward but Nong Man catches him, and presses a finger to his lips. Hank immediately slumps and just watches her walk off. Again.

* * *

"_Ohmigod, ohmigod you guys! Looks like Elle's gonna win the prize. If there ever a perfect couple, this one qualifies!"_

Rhino's square shoulders swing in and out to the sway of the opening number to _Legally Blonde_. He pumps a fist in the air, nearly bumping the roof of the car, and laughs. Kim may have been a big stinker to him earlier, but that's okay, _Ohmigod You Guys!_ always puts him in the right mood again.

"_Ohmigod this is happening! Our own Homecoming Queen and_ — what the Hell is she doing?"

**The Bermuda Triangle Main Room: San Francisco, California  
February 2, 2008: 1:51PM**

Kim's limbs move so robotically when she gets mad like this. Cheeks red, she pounds across the pavement, beelining straight for her ride. Weird. Hank said protocol is that she will text Rhino to pull up to the front when it's time, so this is highly unusual… and Big Daddy doesn't even want him on this job!

Rhino starts to sweat; should he call Hank?

Kim gets to the car and the brunt of her fingers roll against the driver side window. She jerks a thumb to the right but — what does that even mean? Rhino looks over his shoulder and frowns. Kim growls, smashing her face against her hand and gestures "_down."_

… at least that makes sense.

Kim sticks her face in the second the gap is wide enough for her to breach. "Move over, Rhino."

"Huh? Wha—KP. No. I'm your driver, kiddo," Rhino touches his chest for emphasis. "Can't let you drive, no can do."

"Rhino — come on, move," she snaps, grabbing the handle and pulling hard but Rhino's faster this time — door doesn't budge. So Kim reaches through the open window and grabs the little lock-unlock thing and clicks it, opening the door.

"Kim, I don't wanna get in trouble with da boss," Rhino pouts.

"Ugh, Rhino. I am 'da boss,' you know that,"

Yeah, that does sound right. He rubs his head and finally unclicks his safety belt, shifting a seat over and buckling himself in. She's not under the influence, is she? He considers pulling out the breathalyzer he slipped into the glove box, but that might make things worse between them. She's just kinda jittery is all. Flushed in the face too, but lots of jitters. Her knee is bobbing up and down.

"Kim," Rhino says, but Kim ignores him, buckling herself in and readjusting the seat.

"Kim," he repeats it and she briefly looks over to him, but he takes too long to continue, so she looks over her shoulder and backs the car up at a dangerous speed. It swerves into a very fluid three-point turn, and she floors it.

Rhino frowns and looks at her closely. Something's off about her. It's the skin, her face is usually more angular. This one is very round, like she's still got baby fat on her. But that doesn't make sense, people don't just get younger… do they? He knows Kim kinda comes from a whacky, magical world and all this stuff he's never before but — aw Hell, she catches him staring.

"Sorry," he says to the curl of her lip.

She rolls her eyes and pulls a flip phone from her pocket. "It's okay. I'm having a bad day, Rhino. Not your fault."

Should he armchair for her? Or is this a better time to just listen? Because he could ask what she's going to do about her bad mood, but all too soon things snap back into business mode. The phone lands in his big hands and he peeks at it. Two phone numbers, both are vaguely familiar.

"Mugsy and Vinny," Kim answers without prompting. "Tell them we'll be there in an hour to scoop them up, so they better get ready."

He raises an eyebrow and looks back to the numbers. He almost wants to ask which one's Vinny's because he's been on weird terms with that guy lately… odd that they are actually Rhino's contacts, but hey, it's a livin'.

Kim's eyes open a little wider. "Um, and can you ask them to prep some lunch for us? I'm broke — don't tell them that obviously, just — you get it, yeah?"

Rhino nods along. "KP, um, where are we going?"

She hesitates, but then grits her teeth. For a second, he's pretty sure she's not going to tell him so he presses _Call_ but her hand lashes out like a snake and snaps the fliphone shut. Her hand kinda on his, she looks over and two wrinkles come in below her eyes.

"The Denver Museum of Nature & Science."

"Oh. Huh. Are we doing a field trip or — " he freezes. That was the first place he ever drove Kim. He'll never forget that day — December 27th. Same day he got promoted. He'll always be thankful for that. " — oh."

"Yeah," she rasps. "We're visiting an old friend."


	5. I'm Here, Little Girl

"Ey Kimbo! Can we eat our stoopid sammiches yet? I'm fackin' hungry ova here!"

"Vinny, I don't think she can hear you. Look at her, hah? She's broodin' my friend."

"Yeah yeah, she's in her own little world again, just like aways, and dat's just great, innit?!"

"Vinny, I'd cool it if I were youze."

**Alleyway: Denver Colorado  
February 3, 2008: 10:29AM**

Everyone takes a snooze on the ride down to Denver from San Francisco — smart as a whip, Kim fools her mooks by arranging a driving schedule that never allows for her to personally get a little shut eye. She's been awake the whole time, and quite jittier. By this point, it's almost on them for not catching it earlier, given her recent behavioral issues. Granted, the way she keeps stumbling over the trunk does make her into an awful liability, and Big Daddy wouldn't like at all.

"I can actually hear you, you know?" Kim snaps, voice all scratchy. She stares at them with impatient, bloodshot eyes. She spreads her hands wide, stretching out the trashbag she's holding. "Guns. Now."

Mugsy frowns, placid face for once ignating a flare of annoyance. Though he suspected something like this might happen. He peels back his jacket, and plucks the revolver from its holster, limply tossing it into the bag. Next, he pats himself down for any other kind of lethal weaponry. Whether it's to prevent Kim from frisking him, or if he genuinely doesn't remember how many guns he had, is up in the air.

Vinny on the other hand just stands there with crossed arms, getting into a staring contest with Kim. Kim mirrors the staring back by narrowing her eyes; it does little to break the ice between them.

"I was told you brought guns to the Gilead job and we're certainly not doing that here, Vinny," Kim snarls, no hesitation behind her sneer. "You make more money working for me than anywhere else. Now do as I say."

Vinny snorts and swipes open his jacket, revealing enough grenades to make him look like a sneaky snake oil salesman. He fumbles them off, dropping them off in clumps. After his jacket is fully emptied, he looks to her with some indigination. "Well?"

Kim crosses her arms back, eyes narrowing into slits.

Vinny grumbles something under his breath, and scoops off his fedora where the final grenade lays balanced on his bald head.

"Ah, Vinny, again with de 'nades?" Mugsy sneaks a peek at the haul. "I told ye to quit, man."

"Ey, I'm tryin' man, camon, you knowze they're good," Vinny pouts. "Hey, uh, no disrespect, Boss — but whatse we doin' out here? Anotha B&E?"

Kim nods curtly. "Yes."

Before any more questions can be asked, Kim slings her backpack over her shoulder and onto her stomach. She unzips it and hands off equipment left and right, all stuff from her glory days.. Hair drier grappling hooks, knock out gas that looks like nail polish, laser lipstick, compact zipline, an alarm hacking comb, and a handful of mini-Kimmunicators.

Vinny lifts one of the hair dryers into the air. "Eh, dis ain't really in our job description, I gotta say."

"It's money, isn't it?" Kim shrugs, looking up to Rhino. Finally, a bit of that frost leaves her voice. "You're good coming with, right?"

The big lug sort of double takes, stuffing some of the classic KP gear away. "I'd be honored, KP."

"Good," Kim chirps and very suddenly turns on her heel. She takes one step into the light of day, the sun fully exposing how tired she is. Frizzy hair knotted into tangles, pale skin wrinkled by dark rings, and a haggard posture. She doesn't look well, to say the least. Before walking among the other pedestrians, Rhino rushes forward and yanks her back by the forearm; it's not hard, given how light she is.

Kim's instinctually lashes back and grabs Rhino's wrist, squeezing the giant mit off of her. Face flushed, she yells, "Excuse me?"

"I mean — shouldn't we make a battle plan befoe goin' out dere, KP?" Rhino gives her the widest eyes he can offer but it's apparently not enough. "And maybe do this gig during the day, when, ya know, people like to go to museums?"

Kim's neck cranes up at the sun that shoots its rays straight down at them. "We'll make it work. We always do."

"Famous last words, if ya ask me," Vinny wags a finger. "We's gotta plan dis opp first."

"Ditto," Mugsy says, palming Vinny on the shoulder.

"Tsch," Kim flashes her canines. "I don't think any of you get a choice."

"Uh — we could walk any second, ya get? We ain't got no contract with ya." Mugsy shrugs, beady eyes almost challenging her to make that happen.

Kim hesitates, then pulls her arm free from Rhino, pausing to glare at him mid-yank, almost like a daughter might to an overprotective father. "Fine! You guys can — whatever. Rhino, drive them back to Foster, I'll go at it solo. It'll be fine. Just return my gear, okay?"

"Whoa, all dat for nuthin'?" Mugsy steps back. "Not for nuthin' kid, but that ain't what I'm getting at — "

"Typical!" Vinny snorts.

" — but youze gotta plan these kinda gigs, Kim," Mugsy nearly pleads. "You can't go jumpin' through skylights and hopin' for the best yer whole life. It just ain't practical."

Vinny pulls on Mugsy's elbow. "C'mon Mugsy, less go work for a boss that values our ideas, huh?"

Kim stomps one foot against the ground, and advances on the two fast. She only stops because Rhino grabs her once again, this time by the wrist. Her arm goes taut and her head snaps back. "Let me go right now, Rhino."

"No," Rhino shouts, yanking Kim over so that she lands at his feet. "If you do this, you're gonna get hurt. I can't let dat happen.."

Kim pushes him away again. "Rhino, I'm going to — "

Rhino sighs and raises up the knockout gas that looks like nail polish…

" — do whatever I think will work. You however need to learn your place, just because we're friends — "

… and the sharp scent of the 'cosmetic' rises into Kim's nose and within a second, her whole body tumbles backwards. Rhino lurches forward and grabs her by the small of the back, her head lolling about. He drags her back to the car and props her up against the hood. "Shit," Rhino grumbles, looking over to Mugsy and Vinny.

"Whoa, Rhino, dat's pretty fuckin' gnarly of ya!" Vinny cheers.

"Yeah, yeah," Rhino grunts. "Gnarly, whatever. Okay, new plan!" he reaches into his wallet and pulls out a fat stack of cash, Mugsy and Vinny's eyes whirring with the sway of the paper bills rolling against Rhino's fat palm. "Buy us some food. Like ingredients, no take out, ya get? I'll text you guys an address, just meet me there."

* * *

Groggy. Eyes peel open slowly to reveal an unfamiliar ceiling. Fingers twitch and dig into the matress; it's wafer thin, certainly not her own. People don't let her sleep on crap like this anymore, so something is wrong. Takes a second to collect it all. She vaguely remembers driving to Denver and not sleeping, and there are flashes in time where she thinks she may have yelled at Mugsy and Vinny… or did they yell at her? It's really confusing. She rolls onto her left shoulder and orange hairs blot her vision. Not hair though, her hair is darker. Somthing is definitey wrong.

Without even thinking, her right fist flies high into the air, quickly twisting to and come back down like a gavel, rushing towards this stranger next to her—

— that stranger being Mugsy —

— ah shit —

— at the last second her fist shifts to the side and plows into the mattress, making enough of an impact that Mugsy's beady eyes snap open. Dressed in a full own flannel get-up with a droopy, sleepy cap, Mugsy rubs the crust from his eyes and turns onto his side to better see his boss. "'Ey uh, boss. I ain't in trouble am I?"

Kim frowns. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Ew, don't swear, Boss. It's_ unbecoming_, ya get?" Mugsy shrugs, sinking deeper into his pillow. "Rhino knocked ya out because you were being a big palooka."

**Motel 6: Denver Colorado  
February 4, 2008: 2:56AM**

Kim looks around the room and sees Rhino and Vinny over in the adjacent bed. Turns back to Mugsy and checks her body. She's still dressed, still in the suit, which is now rumpled and caked in sweat. She has been wearing it for three straight days now. Depending how long she has been unconscious. "Wh-why are we in the same bed?"

"Hey, no need to be juvenile, get yer head out of da gutter, kid," Mugsy chortles. "You're — what? Sixteen?"

She gulps. Technically — because of Ron — she is sixteen. But they aren't supposed to know that. "Nineteen," she says softly. The soft sound is hard on her throat.

Over on the second bed, Vinny props himself up over Rhino, pom-pom to his sleepy cap resting against his ear. "Ehhhh you see, Kimcharoo, yer schmall, I'm actually a lot schmaller than ya, so we figured we'd-a put the big guy wit' me and the medium guy wit' choo."

"I'm the medium guy," Mugsy proudly adds on, as if Kim already didn't know that.

"Ah," Kim sighs, rubbing her cheek absently, and to her shock — finds stubble. She must have been asleep for a long time. She drops her hand to her side and starts to lean off the bed when Mugsy gets in closer.

"Oh wow, boss, ya got some lipfuzz on ya! Ha!" Mugsy claps Kim on the back and looks over to Vinny. "Yo, Vinny, check out Kimmie. It's like she's our kid."

Kim immediately blushes, trying to sidle farther away, but her underfed frame caves into his hold fast, and she unpleasantly ends up in his sidehug.

Vinny frowns and perches his chin on Rhino's shoulder — Rhino is still zonked out somehow, of course. Classic Rhino. "Yo Mugsy, I ain't neva wanna think about you an' me making a li'l baby togetha."

"Nah nah nah," Mugsy waves it off. "Look, it's our genes! Red hair. Nasty ass lip fuzz. Dat's us alright!"

Vinny blinks. "Oh yeah, I do get dat! I still fink yer repugnant, ya palooka, no similarity to my facial hair's gonna change that."

Meanwhile, Kim just lays there limp with her legs caved around her waist, cheeks burning. She's really not sure what to say. "Um… please don't tell anyone." Her voice comes out deeper too, which feels a lot worse. It's kind of this eerie croak. It's harder to pitch up when she just woke up.

"It's 'kay," Mugsy flops back on the bed. "C'mon, git some shut eye with us."

Kim narrows her eyes and looks out the window; it's very dark. Perfect time do the hit. So she gets to her feet and immediately Mugsy and Vinny both whine like kids during a road trip. "Yeah, yeah, put a sock in it," Kim snaps and claps her hands together. "Rhino! Up and at 'em!"

Nothing from Rhino. Vinny gets up and tries shoving him over, but the big guy stays locked in his blissful sleepy sleep land. Vinny raises his hands up to shriek in Rhino's ear but Kim waves that off, and throws her hands on her hips. "_Good morning! Good morning! We've…_"

She gestures over to Vinny who pats his chest as if he just got shot. "Uh uh..._we've tawked the whole night through?"_

Kim snaps with both hands. "_Good morning, good morning to you! Good morning, good mooooooorning, it's…"_

Points to Mugsy who immediately chirps in with, "_It's greeeeeat to stay up late!"_

Kim frowns, not having expected these two goons to know this song so well. "_Good morning, good morning to you. When the band began to…_ um. Uh…"

It's on the tip of her tongue… when the band began to _what?_

Mugsy and Vinny throw arms over each other's shoulders and make a miniature kickline. "_Play, the stars were shining bright! Now the milkman's on his way…"_

By now, it is obvious that Rhino is awake. He's smiling too much, too present in the moment, to not be therew ith them.

Kim laughs and leans in for the next line, and winds up singing it in unison with Rhino who jerks up out of the bed. "_And it's too late to say good night!"_

Rhino guffaws and wraps Kim up in a bear hug. "D'aaaaww, youze guys are the best! _Singin' in the Rain _all for Rhino, wow!" He rests his hands on Kim's narrow shoulders. "'Ey uh… you feelin' better, KP?

Kim blushes and backs off. "Yes. Thanks, we'll reimburse you guys for the motel. Um. Now we need to get to work."

"So what exactly are we doin' in dat museum?" Mugsy asks, sidling on over next to Vinny on the opposite bed.

Kim almost blurts out, _Need to know basis_, but she catches Rhino's eyes and really, what is the point in not telling them? She just slept close enough to her — um, associates — that the warmth of their bodies probably kept her nice and cozy. It should be okay. So she gets down on the bed with them. "A former associate — the pivate Big "Big" Daddy — has a hideout there, and I need to talk to him."

"Talk to him like uh — " Mugsy brings his fists together. " — _talk to him_, heh heh heh?"

Vinny scratches his head. "I don't get it. Tawk to him like _tawk to him_? Dat's stupid."

"No no," Mugsy frowns. "Like — uh — _talk to him_ like up da riva, ya get?"

"Oh," Vinny sighs. "Youze should just say dat den."

Kim suppresses an eyeroll. "Talk to him like — actual talking. I need his advice, if I can be honest. Um. So last time I visited, we had a guy planted here. This time we're not so lucky, we'll actually have to break in. I'm going to work out a strategy on how we get in, and while I do that you three need to help me."

The goons all listen intently.

"Mugsy, Vinny, I need you two to smash and grab for me. I need some basic anti-depressants. Try Zoloft. Small doses. Estrogen too. And this other med, it's called Spironolactone. Got it?"

Mugsy and Vinny nod. Rhino cranes his head over. "KP, why do you need estro—" he catches the stubble and bites his lip.

"No questions for that one," Kim brushes herself off, tossing off the blazer, the black blouse even more ragged than the pants, though at least the dark hue hides all the sweet stains. "Please get it done in the next two hours. You'll be paid extra for it, obviously. Cool?"

Vinny mimes an _OK _gesture and says, "Crystal."

Mugsy facepalms. "Vinny, ya only say _Crystal _if they ask _Clear? _Ya got it?"

Vinny shrugs. "Crystal!"

"Oy vey."

While Vinny and Mugsy wander off to change into their typical work clothes, Rhino stays behind. It's then that she notices him holding her hand.

"K-Kim, I know I'm pushing it already," Rhino grunts. "But um… dis makes me uncomfortable. Stealin' medications? People need those. Besides, there's blood work yas gotta do, to know what dosages and…"

She releases his hold on her and gets to her feet. "I'm not seeing a doctor, Rhino."

Rhino laughs for a moment before catching himself. "But Kimmie — KP — everyone's gotta say a doc. Ain't nothin' wrong with dat. Even I got a shrink, and I don't even have problems."

She raises an eyebrow at him, then eyes the ceiling in deep concentration, as if actually considering it. But finally, she shakes her head and waves it off. "No. I'm sorry. I'm not just any other mobster anymore, Rhino, I'm Big "Big" Daddy. If people found out…"

Rhino leans in, and says this very gently, "Tony Soprano had a psych, ya know?"

Kim's hand falls limp to her lap. "Okay. I'm embarassed, you happy? Besides, it's not like I can go. I'm Kim Possible, everything I do is a media circus and that's the last thing I need as I get through this right now… just get me the meds, Rhino."

He gets to his feet and though his eyes give off the impression of someone disloyal, his voice is resolute. "Okay, KP."

* * *

Towel over her shoulders, hair dripping from the shower, Kim looks into the mirror and sees a 'boy' looking back at her in a plain white t-shirt and boxers. It's very surreal, knowing that it is actually her stripped down from all the prosphetics and pads she has been using. If anyone knew the truth, what she had become — she might actually blush herself out of existence this time.

She traces a finger through the lipfuzz and it's actually kind of soft. The bristles poke her fingers, but they are largely harmless. The problem is that though her hair is auburn, her stubble grows in black. Like little needles.

There's a razor in her hand, and it'd be easy to shave it all off while it's still wet, but she settles the razor back down and reaches for a hair tie.

**Motel 6: Denver Colorado  
February 4, 2008: 3:33M**

Kim's hair is too short now for a true ponytail, so this one forms an ugly knot that looks more masculine then feminine. She tosses on the blazer, pulls up the pants, and straightens the tie. Without the round breasts and wide hips that made Kim Possible… well — Kim Possible, she looks like something else entirely. Maybe a confused little boy that dreams of becoming Kim, or maybe — maybe it could be her new disguise. A little shrimpy mobster who overcompensates or something.

"_Eh heh heh_," she croaks into the mirror. "_This is a robbery, shee? Stick 'em up ya palooks, shee?_ No, it's not — um — that. More like _Eh, ey, da boss isn't gonna like this!_"

Kim's play backfires fast — Vinny, Mugsy, and Rhino march in to see what they believe to be a stranger at that bathroom mirror. Mugsy draws his gun, and Vinny tears a pin off of a grenade and in her panic, Kim tosses off the get-up right quick because that's what you usually do when someone doesn't see through your disguise — you remove it — but this even lesser form doesn't help much either. Thankfully, her goons aren't willing to kill kids so it leaves her safe for a second.

But like this, they can see her chicken legs and wiry arms, her broader chest, her groin pushing against the boxers. She crumples inward.

Kim still doesn't understand why this happened to her, but she knows that it is has meaning and she has to accept it. So that starts with some honesty with her peers.

"Hi," she says meekly, not even bothering with the pitch of her voice. It's deep like this, musky like it used to sound when she was congested. But it's her authentic self. "Um… p-p-please don't tell a-anyone I'm…"

Her voice trails off. She doesn't know what to say first — trans or a kid.

"I promise th-that I'm still a good l-leade—ah," she grunts, Rhino's thick arms wrapping around her small frame. She used to go up to his chin but now she's more around his shoulders, so she buries her face into his chest and lets it all out.

Twenty minutes later, Kim reemerges from the tower, dressed in a fresh garb. Clad in a fedora, she leans towards her three goons lined up on the bed, and in a dark, nasally croak announces, "Lissen boyos, Kim Possible can never be seen doing dis crminal sheet, so for on tonight, Imma go by Towtruck Stanson."

Mugsy and Vinny nod at a steady pace that communicates that they get it. Rhino? Not so much.

"KP," Rhino grunts. "I t'ought you already did the Towtruck Stanson thing. Like, da association's already there."

"Yeah," Kim shrugs. "But iss a good name."

* * *

The break-in goes fine. As if it could go any other way. It's a low security museum for crying out loud, not like any of the staff members know what they're really guarding. But Kim knows. Every step of the way, the rapidity of her heartbeat increases tenfold, eagerly anticipating that long sought after conversation with her maker — Doctor Drakken.

Her biggest concern is where to keep Rhino, Mugsy, and Vinny during the fated encounter because they under no circumstances can discover the true identity of the former Big "Big" Daddy; she has been humiliated enough today.

But as things often do in Kim's field of work, things go awry. It begins at the end of the heist, when after disabling the security cameras overlooking the second floor ledge, Kim climbs up on the metal railing and holds out her grapple line.

She doesn't move. Precious time ticks away. Rhino looks to the other goons in a panic. If Kim waits any longer, the gap in the security rotation will be sealed and they will so easily be spotted.

"Kim?" Rhino asks with a lot of hesitation.

**Denver Museum of Nature and Science: Denver Colorado  
February 4, 2008: 5:16AM**

Her ears prick up at his warm voice. She carefully steps down from the railing and places the hair drier in Rhino's big hands, suddenly looking very fatigued. "We can't use this."

"Why's that?" Rhino asks. "I t'ought you said that Wade's tech was top o' da line and — "

"It's bugged," she sighs. "_Could be_ bugged," she corrects. "Wade works for Global Justice right now and for all I know, turning this thing on is giving those scumbags our location."

"Well even if dat's da case, KP," Rhino sighs, trying to give her back the hair drier. "I already used that nail polish thing earlier. Wouldn't dat give us away?"

"Yes," she whsipers. "But — best not repeat a mistake."

Vinny shakes his head. "Just use the stoopid grapple fing, no way no how GJ gives a patootie about dis stoopid job — "

" — Vinny — " Mugsy gently takes Vinny by the shoulder, all wide eyed. " — dat's stuff you don't say directly to da boss — "

"It's fine, he's right to be pissed," Kim shrugs. "I just need another way to get across this gap so I can drop into the fountain and... "

"_Hey you! What are you doing up there?"_

"... oh good!"

One full story below, a chubby guard looks up at Kim and her crew as if they are just a bunch of annoying kids. He scratches his cheek and raises his flashlight higher. Kim winces at the light, bracing a thin wrist over her eyes. She peeks past the blinding light and mouths some expletive under her breath, and then leaps forward.

She hits the ground on both legs, and slowly gets up to look the guard in the face. He pulls out his walkie so she grabs his wrist and squeezes until he drops it, kicking the hunk of metal away and then punching him right in the jaw.

The flashlight throttles into the air, spinning about, casting a beam of light in all possible directions as it comes back down. From the perspective of Rhino and the crew, they can see Kim lift her elbow high in the air and a moment later hear a garbled scream through the dark, followed by a _Thump!_

They see Kim standing over the poor man followed by another scream. Rhino is the first to hit the ground, and he lurches forward and snags the flashlight before it shatters against the tiled floor. He shuffles forward, following the ruthless sound of Kim's beating of this man, and aims the flashlight square at the guard's face.

He's bleeding from the nose, already sporting quite the shiner. He gasps for air, held firmly against the wall. Though Rhino can't quite make out Kim's expression, she is deathly still. A few tense seconds pass and finally she drops the guy and straightens her back. She turns towards Rhino and immediately caves her hand over the light, shutting the thing off. Though even in the dark, Rhino can make out her expression of contempt.

"Sorry pal," she rasps at the guard in her best baritone, all while straightening out her lapels. "Lissen, my pal Rhino here is gonna get you outta here. You don' tell anyone a damned thing about this though, you understand, yah?"

The guard doesn't say anything. Rhino nods and brushes past Kim to hoist the man up to his feet. He gets the sense from all the sweat on the guard's brow that he wants to get out of here just as much as Rhino does.

"Rhino, you make him an offa he can't refuse," Kim points at him, before turning back to the recently grounded Mugsy and Vinny.

A minute later when Rhino is out of sight, Kim flicks her neck towards the fountain, voice falling back into her old register. "Stay here. I'll be five minutes, maybe ten."

Two scared to say anything, they both nod. Though they could easily amscray right here and now, they sitll obediently take positions besides the fountains and slink into the shadow. Stern though they may appear for a second, theyboth double take when they see Kim steps into the fountain.

Despite being four inches deep, the water doesn't pool at her ankles. She just glides through it, mysteriously getting lower and lower, as if she were walking down a staircase, until her head dips below the surface and she is gone.

* * *

It smells bad descending the staircase. Like rot. Water stains the stone staircase descending deep down. Bizarre that it has been little more than a month since she was last here, yet it's felt like eons.

**Drakken's Underground Lair: Denver Colorado  
February 4, 2008: 5:16AM**

Kim stops when she sees the alcove that leads into the tiny room Drakken worked out of for months. She wishes there were some kind of mirror to check herself. She at least takes off the hat and undoes the hair tie, auburn locks falling to her shoulders. She runs her hands through the split ends and tangles hairs, snapping a few of the harder knots until it's all loose again. Doesn't do anything about the stubble, that's probably the thing she's most concerned about. As if Drakken would care, or even notice. It's not like she's getting dolled up for a date or something, she's Big "Big" Daddy. It's okay.

She checks her heart rate; she really shouldn't have laid it onto that poor guard so painfully. Obviously, she'll pay for the hospital fees and Rhino will do… something — to make things better. But for the moment, she can only dread.

Kim takes a few more steps and sees the lip of the stone table under the lip of the archway. That's where she and Drakken had lemonade while he explained his plan to her. She rolls back her shoulders, not sure why she's so stressed seeing how Drakken obviously overheard the whole break-in.

A few more steps down and —

…

…

Nothing.

No one.

Empty.

Her heartbeat accelerates, she tries a breathing exercise to still it, but when she sees how the dust is so densely caked around the outline of what was once the location of the refrigerator, her coping mechanisms fail her. She looks for the bed she sat on when she cried, where he held her hand and insisted it would all be okay, that was she strong, and that's gone too. Just the stone table. Too heavy to lift.

_Beep-beep-de-beep!_

Kim checks the lit screen to her phone — some alert that she missed a call from Rhino. Whatever. She must contend with this first.

She grabs one of the legs of the table with both arms and rams her shoulder into the underbelly of the thing, lifting it just enough off the floor to see if there's some kind of note underneath. She does it for the second leg. The third leg. Kicks the wall and howls in anguish.

Then she lifts the fourth leg, this time so twisted by her own anger, she actually manages to heave the table onto its side with her throbbing shoulder. There's a loud crash and she screams again, battering the upturned stone with her foot. She doesn't really know why, she just keeps kicking and kicking. It doesn't make her feel any better, it takes her some time to get there though.

Kim steps to the center of the room, a fresh scream bubbling in her throat, but she can't — she can't do this right now.

Where the fuck is he?!

Why would he just leave like that?!

It's not possible. He wouldn't — he _can't_ — she needs him.

She punches a wall — immediately bruising her knuckle. But it's better than the alternative of waking up the whole city with her screams of bloody murder.

Kim sniffles and turns to what sounds like a brewing commotion coming from up above. She wipes tears onto her sleeve and steps towards Mugsy and Vinny who scramble down the staircase as if Hell is on their heels. "What are you doing?" she hisses, tempted to rush over and clobber them.

They don't respond. Mugsy dips below the stone table and manages to heave it onto his back, just like Kim did, and with Vinny's help, they plug the entrance, all the while Mugsy swears about how _this just has to be a fuckin' dead end._

"What are you doing?!" Kim shouts again, voice falling into its full tenor. She whirls Vinny around with gritted teeth.

But Vinny is nonplussed. "Didn't ya get Rhino's call?!" he snaps before turning back to the stone.

_Thump! Thump! Thump!_

"_There is no use in hiding! We have you surrounded_!"

Kim narrows her eyes, holding up a finger to momentarily silence her two goons. She knows that voice…

It's…

"_You have until the count of ten before we break this thing down and take you in by force_."

… gruff. Yet warm. Calculated, but still open. Agent Dash DaMont. He works for Global Justice. He — holy shit, Kim actually wasn't crazy about her tech being bugged…

She tries reaching for the top of the table, but she's too small for it now. "Lift me up," she whispers to her goons, and they give her the extra half foot she needs to grip the top of the stone. She peers through the crrack and sees Dash stooped over some of drilling machine. He yanks on a chord and it emits a loud, thunderous wail.

Kim drops back to the floor and snatches Vinny's fedora from his head. The man yelps at her as he always does, but she ignores it and reaches over to the grenade that is once again balanced on his bald head. She brings it to her teeth and yanks off the pin, pulling herself to the top of the table again and slipping the 'nade in between the crack.

Everyone starts shouting.

Kim drops off to the side, bracing herself for impact. Mugsy and Vinny do the same, albeit with a lot more swearing and —

_Boom!_

Stone blasts apart from all over, water from the fountain flooding down the jagged rock. Without hesitation, Kim runs up the makeshift rubble staircase, knees pushing against the tumbling rapids, and clocks Dash DaMont in the temple. He falls like a poorly secured punching bag and hits the floor face first.

The water builds against Kim, hurting her knees, but she moves up fast. The dark no longer expands as far with the tunnel blown half to Hell, so Kim she steps into the light fast. Crash Cranston waits at the peak of the stairs with some kind of laser. He smirks and aims it square at her chest, but she's somehow faster. Drags a foot from the water and nails him in the jaw. Manages to use all of her strength to hoist her entire body in the air with that one leg, and then kick the guy in the jaw. She drops to the ground, pivots him around her body, then knocks him down the stairs.

Mugsy and Vinny nearly tumble back down the stairs when the agent almost collapses on him.

_Click. Click. Click. Bang. _

All over, skylights shatter and agents descend from up above. Guns click from the agents that dart out from behind shadowed spaces. Too spent to keep going, Kim raises her hands in the air, crooking her head so that the brim of the fedora falls past the eyes. Time to see if the disguise works.

"Whaddaya dingbats want, huh?!" she shrieks, again in that newfound baritone.

A shatter from up above and down comes Betty Director of all people. Lands square in front of Kim, armed in combat gear with a trench-coat. But at the sight of the girl, Betty throws her hands on her hips and grunts, "Where's Kim Possible? Do you work for her?"

Kim can't think of anything so she says, "Fuck you."

(Nice.)

Kim feels like she's about to die either way. From behind Betty, through glass paneling, there is blinding light, and the only thing blocking it out is Betty. Because she's about to ice Kim and send her straight to Hell probably.

"Whoa, Betty, watch out!" Burn Berman warns from the third level of the museum.

Betty turns back and screams, leaping into the air, spinning like a wheel. Kim also screams because it's a fucking car that rams though the glass and blasts ahead. Not enough energy for a full pirouette, Kim barely stumbles out of the way, and just as the car rushes past her — _Crack! _— Betty's foot nails Kim in the throat and sends her tumbling to the floor.

_Click!_ goes Betty's gun which rams into Kim's nose.

"You tell me right now," Betty hisses. "Where — is Kim Possible? One shot, bucko."

Kim lifts her head just enough to smack Betty with a well-aimed gob of spit — which incidentally is enough leverage for Betty and Kim to make full eye contact. Betty, for a moment, seems stunned. Then she cackles. Because she knows who she's really talking to now.

Kim growls and kicks Betty off of her in this brief lapse in action, rushing to her feet as agents swarm from all over. But she reaches out and takes Mugsy's hand who drags her into the weird car — which winds up being her car. Rhino's driving, thank God.

Rhino pulls the vehicle into an insane hairpin turn, all the while bullets smack into the steel sides, all the while the opening number to the fuckin' _Music Man_ plays on the radio _("You can talk, you can talk, you can bicker you can talk, you can bicker bicker bicker you can talk you can talk talk talk you can bicker bicker bicker you can talk you all you want to but it's different than it was…")_, and blammo! They're out the makeshift exit and barreling into freedom. (_"...but he doesn't know the territory!")_

Kim looks past her shoulder at the shrinking vision of death. "Holy shit," she grunts. "That was fucking crazy, guys, did you — "

She turns right into a pink mist. She catches one whiff of it before she realizes what it is — the knockout gas that looks like nail polish — and promptly passes out into a haze of black.

* * *

Kim wakes up with her back slumped over her waist, legs painfully crooked over the lip of a chair, ankles tied to the legs. She tries to get up, but she finds her wrists tied together too. They slide up the wooden posts until hitting a rung and stop. She pulls again, but nothing. Lifts her head and cracks her neck back to at least knock the bangs out of her eyes.

It's a dusty apartment, vacant. Completely unfamiliar.

"Ah, you're awake," a deep voice slurs from around the corner.

**Undisclosed Apartment: Probably Still Denver Colorado  
February 4, 2008: 11:14AM**

Big Daddy enters the room, dragging another wooden chair behind him. The legs scratch the paneling on the floor, but he doesn't seem to notice. He drops the chair before her and takes a seat.

Kim almost spits at him, but she looks disheveled enough. Her whole suit is wrinkled from writhing, coated in sweat, strands of hair plastered to her forehead. But she does grit her teeth. "What do you want me from you sick fuck?"

Big Daddy chuckles, teeth momentarily pulling apart from each other. "I just want to talk, Kimberly Ann."

"Yeah? You want to talk?" Kim snaps. "Then why did you tie me up?"

Big Daddy nods. "Fair. But Rhino warned me that you've been — violent, and I am personally not for that."

Kim chokes back something and nods. "I've been tense, sure. But that's no reason to do this to me, and — and — when I get out of this, I will — "

"You'll do nothing," Big Daddy leers. "Don't be dramatic; that's not what's happening here."

"Oh yeah? Well then explain to me what is?" Kim jerks her body as hard as she can, but still the chair doesn't budge. She manages to kick back her heel, and it collides with something hard slung over one of the chair's rungs. Probably a sandbag.

"I just want to talk," Big Daddy closes his hands together and leans forward. So odd to see him his feet planted, not criss-cross applesauced on a little mat. "Your behavior alarms me and I don't understand why we're back in _Denver_ of all places. I was under the assumption that there was nothing left for you out here."

Kim tries to slow her heart rate. It's true that back when Shego was alive and Kim was just hired help that they predominantly met out here, though she rarely took advantage of it. "Rhino betrayed me?"

"I wouldn't say betrayed," Big Daddy shrugs. "Again, Kim, nothing bad is happening. Just please answer the question."

Kim heaves a deep breath. "It's about the previous Big "Big" Daddy…"

"You talked to him?"

"No. He's gone. I — I just wanted advice. Something. Anything. But he hasn't been responding to me since that day…"

"He's usually like that," Big Daddy leans back. "And that goes for all of them. Why, I can't say I've ever met the Big "Big." You're the only one I know who has met one, and I must say, it's highly unusual for someone in the role to be as hands-on as you."

Kim raises her chin. "How many other Big "Bigs?"

Big Daddy offers a noncommital shrug. "You wish to know why I never climbed that high? I've been… _happy_, I think, with my current role. It suits me."

"Oh, is she finally awake?" a chipper voice says from the room over. Hank Perkins appears in the doorway, wrapped up in an apron and oven mitts. "Give me a minute," and just like that, he's off again.

"Are you trying to accuse me of something?" Kim asks.

"No," Big Daddy's long eyebrows briefly knit together. "I trust you."

Kim jerks against the chair again, making a loud enough _Thump! _that even the ever calm Big Daddy reacts to it.

"Fine, I _somewhat _trust you," he rolls his eyes, flat hand caressing his forehead. "But I know that you are the Big "Big" Daddy."

She leers at him. "You wouldn't be doing this if you did."

He thinks about that. "No, I wouldn't. But you're not acting very Big "Big" Daddy like — Hank, could you hurry up?"

"Yes, yes, I'll — God, Kim, you look like crap," Hank remarks, entering the room with a full on tray of food pushed against his wrist. He bends an arm around Kim and undoes the handcuffs binding her together. For a second, she considers lashing out and strangling the man, but when her hands do rise, they're met with a sandwich. "Chickpeas, avocado, smoked almonds. Eat up," he chuckles.

She looks at the food, understands that she is very hungry, and takes a bite. When she looks back to the evil duo, they're sharing a chair. Working up some nerve, Kim says, "Hank has been acting like I've been lying about my meeting with Big "Big Daddy. That I was never offered the job to begin with."

Hank opens his mouth in protest, but Big Daddy slaps a mitt over it. "He has — and he's been properly chastised for it. Big "Big" Daddy moves in mysterious ways and though I've never truly understood his motives, I've always listened."

Kim bites her lip. She probably shouldn't say it, but now feels like the time. "It was Drakken. Ever since last July, it's been Doctor Drakken."

Big Daddy frowns, appearing to have just been slapped. Hank brushes the big man's cheek and looks back to Kim with some concerns. "And of all people — Drakken chose _you?_"

"Hank — " Big Daddy groans. " — we can't get into this right now — "

" — well I'd like to — " Hank snips, all prissy like. "Drakken and I ran a cupcakery together. I thought I meant more to him."

"He did it because he wanted me to turn," Kim says in a dark voice. "It was a set-up. Start to finish. Even Shego got played; she didn't know."

"Interesting," Big Daddy strokes his chin in thought. "Do you consider yourself _turned_ then?"

She thinks about that, hands falling to her thighs. They should feel plump, but she's just touching bone. Very unrestful. "I… no. Changed, yeah. Turned, no. I'm not like Drakken. I'll never be like Drakken." She says it like it's some kind of mantra. Big Daddy and Hank exchange a look.

"Listen, Kimberly," Hank leans forward. "I'm — I'm not going to do a power struggle with you, okay?"

She looks up. "Okay?"

Hank sighs. "I just want to be clear — we're in it together, okay?"

"I don't believe you," Kim frowns. "Did you hire Nong Man?"

Hank briefly breaks eye contact, finding something very particular fascinating about a corner of the vacant room. "Erm — no. Though I still think we should consider him, but you're the one in charge."

"That's good, Hank," Big Daddy whispers, probably not aware of how his deep voice booms in any room regardless of sound control. "Kimberly Ann, regardless of whatever Doctor Drew Lipsky did or didn't do — "

Kim snorts. _Drew Lipsky._ As if he's some normal guy and not a total whack job.

" — I chose you to be on the team for a reason," Big Daddy finishes, raising an eyebrow at the abrupt snort from Kim. "You have _vision_. Now you're my boss, interestingly enough. I don't always like it, but it's how _we _do things here."

Kim lowers the sandwich from her lips. "You mean _we_ as in not me."

"At least not currently," Big Daddy adds.

Kim nods slowly. "I'm not a team player, you're right. I've been — making demands without thinking of repercussions. That's why you're mad at me, Hank."

"Yeah," Hank frowns, seemingly cutting himself off from a longer and more nuanced response. He squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Yes. But I don't want to be peeved, I want us to be on the same page."

"I don't want to kill people," Kim shrugs. "Or break the law. I'm not — I'm not a criminal. I can't go to that place. Not when there's people out there the world needs me to stop."

"Like Master Sensei?" Big Daddy drawls.

Hank shakes his head and pats the big lug on the shoulder. "I think she means Ron Stoppable."

Again, Kim nods. Though she'd prefer it if Hank was wrong. But it's how she feels inside. "I'm open to being more flexible with — what we do… if it means we can actually win."

Kim sinks deeper into the chair, knees bending up higher. Her hands roll under the kneecaps and squeeze. Her ankles are still tied back, but she doesn't really think to ask to be released. It sort of passes her mind, but it's nothing serious. She leans back and tries to look proper as a crime lord, but it doesn't feel honest. So she falls back into that slouch.

"I want to save the world," Kim says, sort of out of nowhere, at least for anyone who doesn't know where her mind is. Which is most people. "Maybe I'm crazy for thinking so, but I believe I'm the one who can do that. I'll admit I'm not in love with the fact that these are my resources… I don't like that my own goons just gassed me, I feel like I'm supposed to kill them for that? But I'm not that kind of crime boss. I hope I don't become that, that's kind of what really scares me."

No one says anything for a while, then Big Daddy coughs into his fist and waves an arm through the air, kind of opening up to her. "You're not crazy for saying these things. I felt the same way at the start, and Hank…"

Hank swats at the air with a bit of bemused grin. "...let's just say I didn't realize that Machiavelli's _The Prince_ was satire for the longest time… but I can sympathize, Kim."

"Thanks," she says, then smiles herself. Probably the most vulnerable she's been since this all started.

"But you must understand," Big Daddy leans in, suddenly all business. "The heart to heart is nice, but we need to be clear. I know you want to stop climate change, I can see how you gained public favor from the HIV action, but I don't understand what it is we're doing."

Right. The _work_. The thing she'd been dreading to tell anyone. What she's been internalizing to a point where it makes her sick.

Kim's fingers swipe across her forehead, shifting the tangled split ends back into her bob. Her eyes go cold and she stares at the duo for a long time. It'd be so easy to say no, affirm that they don't need to know the nitty gritty to just trust her. Likely, it'd make things easier for them to not know. It's not as if any Big "Big" Daddy before would say it.

Kim doesn't even know if Drakken told her straight… seeing how his lab was empty when if he was so serious about raising her up, he would have been there.

But she sighs and touches her neck, and the two crime bosses lean in with hungry expressions. They know.

"Okay," she says mostly to herself. Big Daddy and Hank only lean in closer, pearly whites gleaming every brighter with every moment.

She wipes away the apprehension and straightens up, hands to her knees, chin held high. It's the most refined she can be.

"Have you two ever seen _The Incredibles_?"


	6. The Rainbow Warrior

"_Hi. I'm Kim Possible. I'm nineteen years old and within one week week of this broadcast, I will have stopped British Petroleum from drilling in the Atlantic_."

"_Wow. That's a bold statement. How exactly are you planning on doing that?_"

**Ron's House: Middleton, Colorado  
****February 8, 2008: 9:13AM**

Kim looks great on television. It kinda pisses Ron off. After everything that happened at BP Headquarters, she somehow manages to look the same. She's got that doe-eyed girl next door look to her, that bounce to her grin that makes people like her — no, not like her — _believe _her. Like seriously, how are people buying this act? Do they really think Kim Possible, teenage burnout, is going to stop the biggest oil company in the world from _drilling_?

Kim draws in a breath, cheeks flush from the early cold. She draws her track jacket closer and leans in to the microphone, arms crossed up to her shoulders. "_I would love to tell you about our tactics, I think they are really smart, but our team would prefer me not to share any of that. You'll find out soon though!_"

"_Ah,_" the reporter says. "_It is to our understanding that you are collaborating with Greenpeace?_"

Kim nods. "_Yes. I'm with Greenpeace. I went to them because they know how to drive a boat, haha._" Nervously she slips a hair behind her ear.

Ron snorts from his computer chair. Tsch. Back in the old days, him and Kim would have just plugged into one of their old contacts, but Kim doesn't have access to that anymore, does she? No. She's alone, and going to these dumb non-profits for help. It's pathetic.

"_Sorry_," Kim gasps suddenly. "_Heh, I shouldn't have said __**I**__ am going to stop BP, __**we **__are going to stop BP. Me and the other activists._" Oh, so she's an _activist _now. Whatever. Fucking crime lord. "_I'm so used to working solo that I slipped and _— "

_Crash!_

Oh dammit, he shouldn't have done that… Ron just smashed a massive crack into his desk with one apelike swing. Ron needs to learn how to control his stupid temper. But come on! Working _solo_?! Her?!

"_Solo_?" the reporter repeats. "_I thought you were __**Team**__ Possible. With that Stopstop kid. And the rat._"

Yes! The Stopstop kid! Thank you!

At the mere mention of Ron's name, Kim's nose scrunches up as if she just peeled back the skin of a particularly rotten orange. "_Ron was… good on the field, I guess. But he didn't really start pulling his weight until after the split_."

Oh! No! Way! He was _totally _pulling his weight before that! He would have loved to have seen how Kim would have handled the Lowardians without his help! Yeah, that's right!

Man, this thing is making him so mad. How did Kim bounce back so quickly? Two months ago, on freakin' Christmas, people hated Kim. Saw her as a murderer and a liar. The cover-up of Will Du's murder was so _obvious,_ but for whatever reason, people just really want to like Kim. Even if she is the actual scourge of the criminal underworld. Yet after everything that happened, somehow he, the guy who saved a mall full of innocent civilians from Shego and has pioneered a promising follow-up to Team Possible all at his command, has been forgotten.

Just because Kim jacked some dead people's ashes and dumped them off a building. It's ridiculous. Kim is _bad_.

And incidentally, there is _no freakin' way_ Kim is trying to stop BP from drilling because she cares _so much_ about climate change all of a sudden. Something else _has to _be going down. Ron can't quite put a finger on it, but there is definitely something fishy about this turn of hers.

"_What about Global Justice?"_ the reporter asks. "_You've worked with them, haven't you_?"

Kim raises an eyebrow. "_No offense, but anytime I helped them out, their agents always trailed behind me._"

"_What about Will Du_?"

Kim freezes. She stays so still it almost looks like the live feed glitched, but she's just _that _upset about the whole thing. Because she killed Will Du. If she didn't break into Global Justice two months ago, the dude would still be alive.

Kim chose to do wrong, and yet somehow, Betty Director pulled strings to make her seem all nice and clean. It makes _no sense_ to him. But then again, Betty always read to Ron as some kind of vulture, preying on the vulnerable with her weird power plays.

"_I'm sorry,_" Kim frowns. "_But I don't think that's appropriate to talk about Will Du. If you really feel the need to force a statement out of me, I'll say he was an amazing man who really thought he was doing the right thing. I've… learned a lot from him_," she shakes her head, eyes glazing over. Kim knows she probably shouldn't have commented on that. She looks back to the reporter. "I know I'm a celebrity but I would much rather talk about the issues right now before we ship out."

Ron can't handle it anymore. He exes out of the livefeed and shoves his sweaty forehead into his waiting palm. This is insane. _Actually_ insane. Ron knows he's not supposed to be here right now,

his therapist (who is actually just Mister Barkin) told him not to pay attention to Kim…

...yet here he is….

...scrolling down to the comments section…

* * *

"Damn, this kid is heated! Betty, you want to see some of this?"

"Oh, honestly, I'd rather not, but I suppose I should…"

**Global Justice: Washington DC  
****February 8, 2008: 7:17AM**

Betty leans in close to her third monitor, blinking in her attempt to understand Ron Stoppable's angry comments under the guise of OGNacoMan. So many obscenities, so incoherent, it's all just so…

"Embarrassing," Betty sighs, gently pushing the monitor away and back to Dash's sidecar-styled desk. "Don't show me any of that again, it's making me question this, uh,_ redux_ of Operation Ron Factor too much."

Betty sinks her cheek into her black leather glove, thinking carefully. "However," she drawls. "I want you to reach out to Mr. Load. See if he can set up more surveillance on the boy. If he's going to act out so much, it won't hurt for us to use it all as data, right?"

"Huh," Dash scratches the back of his bald head. "With all due respect, Betty, why Stoppable? Kim's the smart one here. She's completely flipped her public image in two months and if your hunch is right, is leading the Bermuda Triangle?"

Betty lazily turns to face her new right-hand man; the torch _had _to be passed down to someone after what happened with Will. It crushes Betty to admit to something like this, but as much as she detested that little shitheap agent, she does miss Will's attention to detail. He would have asked that question before the operation even started and investigated his way into the same answers Betty has. But she supposes it was that attitude that lead to him pushing himself past his mortal limits.

Which leaves Dash DaMont. Loyal to a fault, seasoned, just not committed. Separates his life from his work too much. He's still married with kids on the way, and Betty detests that. But — he is her top officer.

"Stoppable has super powers," Betty's tongue clicks. It goes far deeper than that, but she sees no point in making a dolt understand her brain. "And is completely unstable. Though unlike Kim, I doubt he has any self-awareness of that. Blithering idiot." She thinks for a second. "Dash. You understand why Will had to go, correct?"

Dash frowns. "Um…"

"Will had to go because he was not following orders," Betty recites. "I used him like any chessmaster might, and don't think I won't do the same to you." She holds on that thought for a second before continuing. "Stoppable… is… different, I think. Similar issues but… if we can control him…"

Betty falls back into her palm, thinking. Before, she thought she wanted Kim. That's why she allowed everything to unfold the way it did, but since the incident at the museum in Denver… when she saw Kim for what she truly was… that little trans _freak_… she's had second thoughts. But Ronald?

There is untapped potential there. No one has ever taken that boy seriously. She needs him.

"Dash," Betty drawls. "After you contact Wade, I want you to set a meeting with Jack Hench."

Dash blinks. Clearly, he doesn't know why Jack Hench is the point person for this, not like he'll admit it. He'll just Google the man later. But that won't work either.

"Hench is the actual sitting _President_ of BP," Betty shakes her head like a disappointed mother. Will would have known that. "Try to learn the names of the people we work with, Dash."

Dash nods. "Yes, Betty. Sorry. I should have — um — and I should know this, but — why do you want to meet him? His hands are kinda tied it seems, so — I mean the only thing you can really do is help Kim."

Betty pales, and her round cheeks draw higher, revealing how thin her throat is, how her skin clings to that skull of hers. "Help Kim Possible? Heavens, no. I just want to make the news as much of an outrage as it can be, dear. Now, go to work."

Clearly, Dash doesn't like the sound of that. The big lug really ought to work on his poker face, but in due time he will learn not to so outwardly display his apprehensions. They are unneeded and unprofessional.

Anyways, he says the things she needs to hear him say before things can move forward.

"Yes Betty."

Therefore, the plan is set, and already Betty knows she will win.

* * *

Jack Hench sits with crossed legs and a finger held along his teeth so that he can nibble on it. It is amusing watching him squirm in his seat while Greenpeace carries out one of their promised plans.

It's a dark room the two sit in. The only light comes from the projecting showing the Greenpeace action on the wall, but the light isn't strong enough to show where the walls are, just the two cushioned chairs at the center of the room. Betty's eyes have adjusted enough to the black now that she can see Jack Hench concentrate on the situation.

**Global Justice Screening Room: Washington DC  
****February 11, 2008: 12:39PM**

Betty's people are still working out on the who-when-how of how Greenpeace discovered BP's boating charts — though she suspects foul play given the looped security tapes at one of BP's offices — but the Rainbow Warrior, one of Greenpeace's main ships, meets with one of the BP vessels in the waters. So far, no one has been hurt. Not that anyone _can_ really. First to draw blood loses after all. Activists hit first, their nonviolent direction is irrevocably contradicted and devalued. Corporation hits first and they get drawn up as monsters.

It's very… annoying.

Over and over again, the Rainbow Warrior charges at the BP boat, changing directions at the last moment like a very dangerous game of chicken. Smaller and smaller the gaps get, closer and closer the impact becomes, and each time, Kim Possible leaps off the bow.

Tethered to the Rainbow Warrior by rope, Kim flails through the air, flopping towards the BP boat. As you can imagine, she misses. But each time her arms wave past the bow of BP, Jack Hench flinches. It's small movements at first. But after the fifth or sixth time, Betty notices how his heel twitches in, dragging the low-cut shock past his ankle. Deeper, his teeth sink into his finger.

Coward.

But Betty knows that Jack really has nothing to worry about; she's already planned out how this will go.

"What do you think?" she asks coolly.

Hench looks at her, noticeably relaxing, stretching his feet across the floor and sinking deeper into the chair, before answering. "We'll get her on piracy charges."

Betty raises an eyebrow. "Why? Do you _own_ this patch of ocean?"

Hench leans back, thinking carefully. "I could."

"Uh huh," Betty drawls. "You understand this is nonviolent direct action, yes?"

Hench raises an eyebrow back. "So? All I need to do is go on TV — well, get that Bob Dudley guy on TV, obviously I can't be the one to do it — and call Kim Possible a pirate. People eat that shit up, you know?"

"Hmph," Betty says, intentionally keeping her posture very fixed. "Ideologically though, you know you're in the wrong, right?"

"What? Fueling that climate hooey?"

Ah, it all starts coming back. She remembers how much she despises political figures, how insecure they are, how they trick themselves into believing the pseudo-science of the YouTube debunkers and rabble rousers in their voter base, just to keep their hands clean. She's avoided folks like Hench for a long time, but the way Kim Possible has completely altered the super-villainy scene, it has become a necessity.

"Jack, you know better," Betty lazily kicks her foot out, not bothering to look at the man. It's easier that way. It creates this assumption that she is the one in the right. Takes years of practice to get t he intention just right. "Kim Possible is not a pirate."

"She's a mob boss though, isn't she?" Hench says. "That's what Yori was reporting to me."

Betty nods. Interesting how the future Sensei to Yamanouchi recently had her scheduled occupied as working the security detail for a gubernatorial candidate like Hench. It likely isn't worth much thought, Betty thinks very little of Master Sensei at this point. She wouldn't be shocked if Sensei were using Yori's work as a gateway to this little Trifecta of Supervillainy. (Betty is okay with the label of villain by this point, she'd be an idiot to keep deflecting.) Though she knows she should assume more foresight — Master Sensei is not a good man, and scares even her, and she's pretty bad to the bone herself.

Betty looks to the screen again. This time, the Rainbow Warrior gets so close that her own heartbeat quickens a pace. For a moment, it appears that the bow will tear right through the side of BP; it's a very aggressive maneuver. But alas, it's another fake-out, and this time Kim's fingers latch onto the side of the boat. There's a moment where the rope holding her onto the Rainbow Warrior stretches far off enough that it might snap, but Kim flips off the edge anyway. Probably waterlogged, and crashes into the sea. It'll be several more minutes before another bold charge like that, and by now BP should know it might be a good idea to draw back.

Betty looks over to Hench and observes his thought process. His face scrunches up in disgust. He's had people collapse to their knees before him, begging for discounts on his factory made superweapons and mass produced mooks. It was an easy place to stop, but still he's here. It makes Betty uncomfortable that not even she, the one working the closest with him, has no concept of his true aspirations.

"She's going to land on your boat at some point, Jack," Betty shrugs.

"Boarding it illegally, you mean," he scoffs.

She chuckles sardonically. "Uh huh. Last I checked, she's not doing any damage. You know what it looks like when she lands, right?"

Hench shrinks a bit. Again, that nervous twitch. He's like a child who needs his hand held. All of them do, anyone with power for whatever reason ends up being so clueless. Probably because these purebreds born from money are groomed from the start. Not like her. She grew up in the slums and fought her way to this height, and goddammit, she's good at what she does.

Betty throws her head back against the cushion and looks to him. "Jack, she just doesn't want you to drill. It's not like a coup of your brand."

Hench nods. "I know that. But I need that money."

"Mhm," she hums. "But…"

"You obviously know the solution," he sneers, peeking past his clasped hand. "You just like to be coy."

There he is. She smirks because he's right. God, she hopes he wins this stupid election in Nevada. She needs someone like him. "Thirty million barrels of oil, right?"

"Yes," he answers curtly. "Which has nothing to do with this global warming crap this ero-terrorist is spouting."

Betty laughs again. "So she's a terrorist now?"

Hench smirks. "I'm thinking about it."

"Go with pirate if you have to resort to fear mongering," Betty crosses her arms and makes the bold move of crossing over onto Hench's chair, bumping up against his sides and resting her head on his shoulder. "Wait 'til she actually disrupts something."

"She's disrupting my business."

"Eh," Betty shrugs again, keeping her tone so calm and level. The boats are circling each other now, like sharks. It's only a matter of time before the Rainbow Warrior veers back into that charge at BP. The imagery is growing a little stale now; it's a good time for someone to yield.

"You know, you ought to call it in, Jack," Betty urges, sliding more against his body, shifting his hips across the cushion.

Jack purses his lips. "She looks awful foolish."

"So be the better person, Jack," Betty whispers. "Be the one who tried to listen."

"I don't want to listen," Jack shakes his head, but Betty notes how his tanned hand does reach towards the phone. "She's fundamentally wrong."

Betty shrugs. "Maybe. But it's not about that. Give her a win. Let your boat swerve in deep enough that she can actually clear the gap."

"...I don't see how that helps me," he rests a cheek against an open palm, leaning dangerously far past the armrest, glancing down at the phone. "What do you want, Betty?"

Ah, yes. The specificity.

Betty doesn't lie.

"I want outrage on the media. Stoke the fire, don't worry about the money, you know we already have more than enough."

Jack flinches, surprised at how candid she is. It's uncommon for folks in their field to lay so much down on the table at once. Finally, he reaches out, fingers rolling under the phone. He dials a number, makes an order, and one minute later Kim Possible spectacularly lands on the bow of the BP boat.

For a few seconds, she dangles off the BP bow, drenched in water, wetsuit peeling past her wrists as she one-arms her hold, unhooking the rope from her waist, lifting herself up, physically straining to board safely. Betty is sure that Greenpeace is getting stunning pictures that will be blasted all over the country.

Temporary set-back. It'll be fine.

Kim Possible stands tall, a fierce expression on her face. For a moment, Betty considers switching targets back to her.

Then the negotiations begin.

T

* * *

he boat rocks to and fro at all times, never relenting. Kim knew it would be like this, and it's not like she is prone to getting sea sick, she just wishes there were a moment when things could be perfectly still.

But that's how activists live, and she just wishes she could be strong like them.

**Lower Cabin of the Rainbow Warrior: The Pacific Ocean  
****February 14, 2008: 6:45PM**

A man hesitantly stumbles into the dark cabin with her, hand clutching a tray of food. She is hungry. Faintly, her eyes rise to meet his and she notes that like all the other environmentalist men, he has a beard. But he is kind and soft, though if you saw him anywhere else you wouldn't guess that. He beams at the sight of her, and stumbles forward.

"Figured you'd wanna eat," he says noncommittally. "Food's been good lately, especially the vegan spread."

Kim nods. After an awkward pause, she realizes she is supposed to keep talking and hurriedly snatches the tray. "Thanks," she mutters. "Sorry if I'm not living up to the legend here." She figures the crew has been disappointed with how reclusive she is.

The man, Peter, considers her before answering. "Eh. Lotta celebs have different personalities. Like Javier Bardem is always on the bow, looking at the ocean. Joaquin Phoenix is — ugh, a lot, and then you have folks like Jane Fonda who are always in the kitchen, chatting it up with us. It's okay to take space. Long as you want it." He raises an eyebrow in consideration. "You do know we want you here, right?"

A high-pitched cough from behind her, and outsteps Vinny. "Eh, I tink ta boss has already answered enuff questions, yeah?"

Kim turns to wave Vinny off, it's really not necessary for her and Mugsy to be so —

"Ya, friend, sorry, but da boss is a very busy lady," Mugsy sighs, the tip of his cigarette illuminating his dark expression.

Kim rolls her eyes, she doesn't understand how on Earth she is supposed to keep her true identity under wraps when Big Daddy and Hank force her to have bodyguards like these two mooks. "Guys, lay off, Peter's a nice man."

"Sorry, Boss," Mugsy presses his fedora to his chest and bows politely.

Vinny, on the other hand, keeps that angry glare. "I don' buy it yet."

"Excuse my entourage," Kim says smoothly, picking away at sauteed asparagus. "They're a little over-protective."

Peter nods, but is very definitely not convinced that all is as she says. It's pretty obvious for anyone on board that Kim Possible has some kind of connection with the mafia, which has prompted several requests from Hank Perkins for a round of NDAs. But Kim would really prefer to not resort to that.

"Yeah," Peter rubs his nose. "Anywho, you don't have to if you don't want to, but it might be good to catch some light every now and then, huh?"

Kim frowns. He is obviously right, but she has her reasons for staying down here. She feels bad when her eye catches the clipboard peeking out of his jacket; she would not have noticed it had she been more engaged with the conversation. Not sure how to begin her question, she just says, "Um."

Peter's eyebrows pop up. "Oh, this? Yeah, it's a, um, talent release."

"I dunno about dat, Boss," Mugsy grunts.

Kim hushes him fast, looking back to Peter with feigned interest.

"It'd be good for the movement," Peter suggests. "Hit up some talk shows like Oliver, Stewart, the works. We got some great pictures yesterday, we really need to capitalize on them."

"I understand," Kim says gently, daintily raising her hand in some attempt to express something, but then Vinny places a cigar between her fingers. "Ew, Vinny, guys, stop." She looks back to Peter. "I've been… historically kind of camera shy."

Peter blinks a few times. "I hear it, I've done Fox News before, you know, it's scary but once you start talking — "

"She says she don' wanna do it ya palooka!"

"Ohmigod," Kim facepalms, "You two stay back here. Peter, we can talk outside."

* * *

"So the anchor, I forget her name, tells me that that the sustainable tissue paper we're pitching will be all nasty, and she'll be able to guess which one it is on air, _and she was wrong_!"

Peter shakes his head, tongue running over his tooth caps at such a delicious recollection. His eyes glisten, and because of the dark shrouding the ocean, his glee is far more apparent.

**On Deck of the Rainbow Warrior: The Pacific Ocean  
****February 14, 2008: 6:50PM**

Peter turns to Kim. "I know you hate it, I saw that bit a few years back when they played that theme song of yours as a prank."

Kim shudders at the memory. She made the producers swear that they wouldn't air the bit because it was so cringey, yet they did it anyways, so now there's two and a half minutes of footage online where Kim slinks back in a chair with hardly any interesting reactions, all to the cute _Call Me Beep Me._ Really, she should have sued them, but ultimately she decided it wasn't worth her time.

That's back when her schedule was wall to wall with missions.

"But you do enough of them and ya figure it's not that big of a deal," Peter looks back to the ocean. "It's really good for the movement," he adds on.

Kim eyes the clipboard hesitantly. Of course she wants to go on-air and promote the heck out of Greenpeace, and say ugly things about the key perpetrators of climate change. But that's not why she is on that boat.

Not that Peter can know why.

Kim looks back, and begins her mental tap dance. "Even if I was okay with being on camera, I can't promise a commitment of talk show appearances."

Peter raises an eyebrow curiously. "Other projects? That's all well and good, Kim, but — I'll be forward. This is a campaign, campaigns take years, and we'll need time to recover finances between this and our next exhibition. Media helps with that."

Kim frowns. This is all of a sudden starting to make her soul feel rotten; this is why she spent so much time below deck. She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Peter. I just can't make that promise right now."

Immediately, she begins to worry because her voice was too caked in sadness. She knows that by the long, anguished pause between her and Peter — this man who she already greatly admires for his work.

Peter nods and with a half-hearted smile, pats her on the back. "Okay, but between you and me — whatever is going on behind-the-scenes with you and those thugs… be careful, alright?"

Kim turns over to the sea, and in a hollow voice, replies, "Yeah."

Peter says something like, "I'm serious, we care about you. You can always come back for support and community," but it drifts to the back of her head just like the waves.

There is this black dot in the distance; that's the drilling platform they are protesting.

That's the work.

* * *

Kim's whole body slaps into the ocean surface at once, breaching and falling several feet below. For a moment, it's freeing, the water rushing past her limbs. But after those precious, peaceful seconds pass by it becomes apparent that this is a place where she will need to try. She kicks and her mouth gasps for air as she surfaces.

Brushing her arm against the goggles doesn't do much for her vision, but the oil platform is very much in sights now. She kicks again and speeds towards it.

**Open Waters: The Pacific Ocean  
****February 15, 2008: 7:45AM**

Initially the plan was to swerve in front of the platform with the Rainbow Warrior, but Kim objected, as did Peter. They both agreed a human life in the waters would be much more striking for an image, and possibly out of her grief in not signing off on media appearances, Kim elected to be the one to go under.

The Greenpeace supervisors ask her in advance if she's experienced in deep sea diving and of course she has. Though during the interrogation, Kim thought they were asking her how good she was at it in case something crazy happened, but no, it was sort of a mental illness check.

Kim has done man-eating sharks, underwater laser matrixes, and giant squids — but never the quiet ocean. No ticking clock, no maniacal laughter, nothing. Just wet. It is unnerving, so she tries her best to stay at surface.

She swims out to the agreed upon limit by her estimations, and struggles to stay in place while the ships spiral around her. She keeps her eyes trained on the oil platform — apparently this is as far as she can get safely. Any closer and it is possible that the platform will hit her in its attempt to slow down. If too much time passes, and BP shows no signs of stopping, then she will need to fall back.

In her mind's eye, Kim pictures the photos. A girl in the lower left hand corner of the picture, eclipsed by the ocean blue and an oil platform that towers far beyond the borders of the camera. But she doesn't like it — even in her forgiving intuition, she is too far away for someone to truly understand.

So when two of the inflatable boats leave a wide open space down the center, Kim kicks and cuts through. There is shouting but over the quiet roar of the water, it's impossible to hear exactly what they are saying, but they are probably pissed. Kim's obvious suicidal ideation liability is what surprised her the most when Greenpeace passed her with flying colors in the vetting process; they should have known she would do this.

A wave hits Kim hard in the face, knocking her breathing apparatus loose. Salt water slips in and jets up her nose, forcing her mouth open. She kicks and readjusts, but it's too late. Already, her head feels airy. It's hard to think straight. When the blue wave ahead curves up, she moves with it, riding the wave up and up and up and up — she peeks back and sees the inflatables way below retreating. They should not have chased her.

The wave leaves her and she falls, splashing into the water and it's like mallets throttling into each and every one of her bones. She aches, and drifts through the ocean for a moment. She hates it down here, it reminds her too much of what she really wants, that silence, that lack of — anything. She gazes up lazily, and sees the sunlight smeared across the shimmering waves. There's some beauty to that, she guesses.

It's so separate from the rest of the world. So desirable.

Kim grimaces and resurfaces, head pulsating, but doesn't see open air but the impending black doom of the platform. It gets closer and closer, and she kicks back, bracing herself. It moves much faster for the eye the closer you get.

But the ladder stops yards before striking her, and it's possible that her charge is what made them freeze in their tracks. Hesitantly, she stares at the rusted metal before her. This was not anticipated, no one expected to board anything today. No one trained her for that.

But Kim doesn't have much of a choice now. She grabs the rungs and pulls herself up, fingers sliding against the metal skin flaking off the ladder. Waves slam into her but she holds tight, not conceding an inch, and rises.

Her opening view is dramatic to be sure. Dozens of workers stand for her and at the centerpiece is the CEO of BP: Bob Dudley, a tired old man who looks out of place in his three piece suit. Kim flattens her palms to the floor of the platform and pulls herself up. She doesn't need to worry too much about camera coverage — between the drones and inflatables, there are more than enough angles to satisfy any editor.

She rises and pulls off the breathing apparatus and goggles, letting her hair fall onto her shoulders. She's shivering. It's cold here.

Bob Dudley silently holds up a frail white hand adorned by bright blue veins, and motions for Kim to follow him. Kim bites her lip, this isn't the plan. She is supposed to be on a wire for this eventuality, but things are moving faster than planned. She doubts Greenpeace would want her to turn down his offer though, so she follows.

It's creepy; he says nothing for some time. Eventually, they end up in a dark room where another man sits at a desk, lit only by candlelight. Kim can hardly see him, though the tanned skin seems familiar. The man lazily swats at the air and Bob Dudley turns away, shutting the door behind him.

"What the Hell do you want?" that Southern drawl comes out and it is obvious now that Kim is speaking with none other than Jack Hench.

"Thirty million empty barrels," Kim says. Last time she was alone with Hench, it was Vegas and she was new to the supervillain thing. She didn't know how to play it back then; now she's much more familiar. But she would rather stay on task.

"How?" Hench grunts. "Stop me, today, sure, but it can't be forever, and goddammit it, answer me when I ask you something. What the Hell does Big Daddy Brotherson want with me this time?"

Kim narrows her eyes. "I _am_ Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson."

Kim's eyes finally begin to adjust to the dark, she notices the slightest smirk on Hench's face.

"Of course you are," he drawls. "Damn, that's nutty. Mafia _and_ environmentalist? You doing this as a side-hustle or are you just doing this to piss Big Daddy off?"

"This is what the Bermuda Triangle does now," Kim says carefully. "I want those thirty million empty barrels. You know what the drilling does to our planet, and you know we have enough oil as is."

Hench spits. "Tsch, _I_ don't have enough."

"Too bad."

"Wow, some mouth on you," Hench rolls his eyes. "No wonder Shego was able to beat you around so — "

"Shut up," Kim snaps, fists clenched. "Go home."

"Good for you that you aren't on a wire," Hench rests a puffy cheek to his palm. "Because I'm lookin'_ real _good right now."

Kim shakes her head and turns back, kicking the door open. "We'll be back tomorrow; you look bad enough given that you almost killed me. So I'd recommend banging a U-ie tonight, got it?"

Hench shrugs and kicks highly polished shoes onto his desk. Shoes that cost a lot, that probably cost one of those oil barrels. Shoes no one at Greenpeace can afford, and especially not Kim given how fucking broke she is. Hench rubs his chest and looks at the ceiling. "Yeah, you win. Tell the press you win… for now."

"I know."

Kim turns back, suddenly feeling so small. She just risked her life and it hardly mattered. To Hench, she's just some kind of number or statistic. Whatever she does, it doesn't matter to him, his emotions are so dissonant from hers, and — dammit, not here.

On the way back, she slumps against one of the walls and scrambles to find her emergency downers — then remembers she obviously didn't bring them with her because she had to go fucking underwater of all things…

She feels everyone staring at her as she leaves, she doesn't check to see if anyone is recording. But it's all mounting fast, this popping in every joint of her body, she wants to tear her own face open; it's the fastest way to get all the screams out, she figures.

Kim hardly handles the ladder, nearly slips on the way down. Thankfully, an inflatable is waiting for, and it's just Peter. With one hand, he helps her settle in, the other hand prepares a camcorder.

"I know about your media thing," Peter whispers. "But do you think you can do a video for us right now?"

Kim shakes her head , trying to find actual words to communicate with but nothing comes to mind and she feels stupid. Kim falls into Peter's side, arms wrapping around his body. She is thankful when she feels one arm press into her wet hair, slipping down to her back. Tears come out so fast they hurt her eyes, and she can't stop twitching. She feels so scared, she wants go home.

"Hey, hey, you're going to be alright, kiddo. It's okay. You're okay."

Kim shakes her head. She has no words for these outbursts.

She never does.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Thanks for reading! Happy to be back, I was working on other projects for a long time but decided to go back to this since I think this is my most challenging story. It's been really fun to work on it, and I have a little treat for you: I am publishing a new chapter each day for the next week (3/22-3/28). They are already prepped and written, and I can hardly wait to share what I have been working on for the past month.

In terms of my life, a lot has changed. I live in a new state and I work full time in my dream career. Absolutely slammed with work and kinda lonely, but _I'm Scared Too_ gives me a lot of hope. It makes me feel good about myself. I know it's asking a lot, but if you are reading this fic I would really appreciate comments. They mean a lot to me and it'd be nice.

Thank you.


	7. Make My Fuckin' Day

CW: Violence, abuse

* * *

"I think — I think you should let the action speak for itself, or at least, talk to one of the organizers. The people aboard the Rainbow Warrior are some of the best I have ever met."

**Boston Harbor: Boston, MA  
****February 18, 2008: 8:01AM**

Kim knew this would happen — the journalist brigade waiting for them at the harbor — yet she is wholly unprepared. They are all asking questions that _should_ be answered, and Kim wants to stay behind to field them, but she knows that she is not the right person nor is she the one who even wants to be there.

She is thankful when a tanned hand grips her by the shoulder and without looking, she knows it is the grip of a friend. Her handler guides her away from the flashes and microphones and shoves her into the backseat of a limousine. A few seconds pass and the driver, Rhino, floors it. Kim looks to her right and sees Hank Perkins besides her, the owner of that friendly hand. He leans back, a gaudy pair of sunglasses obstructing even the peak of his cheekbones.

"I don't like the limo," Kim frowns. "I'm a dirtbroke activist, remember?"

Hank sighs, pulling the sunglasses off. "It's obvious you have some kind of business or even Hollywood representation."

Kim considers that. "Maybe, but the people aboard the Rainbow Warrior are already suspecting my ties to the mafia — which is bad."

"They said the same about Sinatra — I think you'll be fine," Hank drawls.

"Okay, fine, but no more limos at least, just in case," Kim clicks her kneecaps together. "Thank you by the way. Um, and thanks for wearing those sunglasses. I actually didn't notice that it was you until you pulled me in here. No way anyone can flag Hank Perkins, Long Time Villany Consultant, as having anything to do with me."

Hank grins, spinning the sunglasses around his finger. "That's the point. So, do you have anything for me?"

"Yes, I have a — um — better if I show you…" Kim pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper. Immediately, Hank sends her a scathing look, flattening the creases out over his lap.

"This is a standard issue media release," Hank explains.

"I know that."

"_I know that,_" Hank mimics with pursed lips. "Do you? You didn't sign it."

"I — uh, don't want to be on camera."

"Isn't that kind of a key component to your evil, evil plan?"

Kim blinks. She knows he's joking, but still… "Um, it's just, I suck at being on camera. Especially now."

"That's fine, play that right and it'll be endearing. We need you to take those talk show slots."

Kim rolls her eyes and looks out the window. It kinda reminds her of Shego, the moments like these. Where people just tell her what to do, even though she has spent the longest time thinking about the word, _No_. And everytime she walks away thinking, _well, they know better than me_.

"Okay, fine," Kim groans, knowing she won't win this one. "So I've been gone for a week, what do I need to know?"

Hank squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Funding issues."

Dully, Kim says, "The other mooks upset that we're not up to our usual nefarious deeds?"

"Yes, actually," Hank coughs. "Please refrain from being _crass_, this is _actually_ complicated. While you've placed an embargo on — erm, we'll call it _illicit activity_ — a lot of our team is getting antsy."

"If they don't want to work on this plan, then fire them."

"It's not that easy."

Kim rolls her eyes, drawing her legs onto the seat, careful to kick her shoes off so they don't mark the corinthian leather. "I know."

"Good," Hank frowns. "So we need to figure this problem out — ASAP. Because we didn't make a cent off that Greenpeace thing — obviously."

"Ah," Kim slumps back in her chair. It's going to be a long ride. "So you're taking me to a brainstorm session."

"Why, yes, I'm — " Hank freezes, eying Kim suspiciously. "Is that — _haha Hank, how predictable, a brainstorm session_ — or — " His hand pivots his wrist while he tries to think of something suitable. " —_ I know Hank well enough by now that I can guess how he handles these situations?_"

Kim raises an eyebrow; she doesn't know what to say to all that.

Hank shakes his head. "We really need to work on our rapport, Possible."

* * *

Though Kim has never participated in an office brainstorm meeting herself, she has heard an earful from her father about how frustrating they are: hours pass by, you hear some of the most incredible ideas you have ever heard in your life, but none of them ever get implemented because of the weight of approvals they need.

**The Bermuda Triangle: New York, New York  
****February 22, 2008: 2:28PM**

Kim sighs, slipping off her blazer and tugging the sweaty dress shirt out from her slacks. She looks around the room and sees Hank and Big Daddy Brotherson all in the same state of confusion. The numbers they need to hit are so high but nothing —_ nothing _seems to fix it.

Cup of coffee in hand, Kim snaps. "Enough! Okay, the three of us are in charge of this fucking mafia and I think it's about time we make a decision."

Big Daddy's unibrow arcs to the side. "Hmm, I suppose."

The three of them each find a place at the table. She is amazed at how long this has been.

"We need to steal something," Kim admits. "But it can't be public."

"An unseen villain against the public?" Big Daddy suggests, pulling out his notepad. "There are many."

Kim eyes the notepad carefully, she is sure it has good intel. Just not helpful for today. "Um, let's focus on our immediate targets."

For a moment, Big Daddy's eyes flash into the fear of a pearl clutching centrist on the internet, but he soon retracts that and passes the notepad off. "You are speaking of your _Trifecta?"_

Hank snorts; he hates flashy names. "Let's start with the obvious — Global Justice. You're an insider, and you keep going on and on about their stupid weapons' library."

Kim purses her lips. "We don't have enough people, and can't hit Hench again because I don't want anything murky getting connected to us after BP. We could easily discredit Greenpeace that way."

"True," Hank rubs his chin. "So you're thinking Master Sensei? I'll admit, that is an operation we can pull off. Erm, Big Daddy?"

Big Daddy nods. "If we hit them, you cannot rely on the usual suspects." He doesn't need to say their names for Kim to know he is referring to Mugsy, Vinny, and Rhino. "We have some contract people we'd like to keep on staff. You… are familiar with some of them. And as for this Nong Man character — "

"Absolutely not," Kim snaps, not meaning to interrupt. But she just can't handle hiring someone like that, someone who is so nonchalant about his depravities. "There are some targets I would like to point out."

For whatever reason, Kim already knows this, already knows her plan. Like she has been plotting this for a long time. It comes very naturally to her. "The main one is The Lotus Blade. It's — like, this sword that only Ron can use. Honestly, it's a whole thing so — "

"I just want to notate this for the record," Hank chin bumps his notebook as his neck cranes up to her. "Every time you say i_t's a whole thing_ — don't look at me like that, you say it a lot — you are actually going to have to explain _the whole thing_ to me at a later date."

Kim groans, but she supposes it's okay for Hank and Big Daddy to know the truth of the Mystical Monkey Power, given how she allegedly was its wielder for the past half of a year. "Point is, we can use the Blade for some of our work, or at least keep it out of Ron's hands…"

"If I may," Big Daddy suggests. "Call him Stoppable. It will make the transition easier."

Kim blinks. She hates that, hates that this is where she is, but she also knows he is right. She leans in. "Okay. So… he can't be at Yamanouchi, nor will Yori, who we need to discuss later, she's expressed interest in helping us — " And off of Hank's widening eyes, she jabs a finger at the air. "And _that_ is a whole thing. If we move quickly, we can be on a plane within the week. I want the people who jumped off the ship back on."

Hank frowns. "This might be a good time for me to say their names — "

"No, it's fine," Kim grunts. "I'll work with what you give me."

Hank nods, and it's one of the few times he offers her a genuine smile "Yes. Uh, to confirm though — when you say _we_…"

Kim nods. "Yes, I mean_ me_. I want to lead. This one's personal."

* * *

Kim immediately regrets not getting the names of her team because sitting among them, she feels like Lex Luthor running the Legion of Doom; she might as well have a swamp lair too. They _all_ have a history with Kim, one that runs way back.

**JFK International Airport: New York, New York  
****February 23. 2008: 6:53AM**

Aviarius is the first one Kim meets. She doesn't have as much experience with him, so she almost doesn't recognize him in his civilian get-up. She had no idea that the man did any kind of contract work, but after some small talk she learns that after he was thwarted back in 2006, he found himself so unable to stop the revitalized Team Go that he had to resort to other means.

Mostly, Kim doesn't like him. He reads to her as very mercenary, which is odd given his impractical fighting style and scheming. What does interest her is that staff of his — the one that can steal powers from _anyone_, though she sincerely doubts it would work on her biggest target: Stoppable. Still though. That… is lucrative. Kim wants this. It works well in her plan, so she takes a mental note to make sure he stays on the team.

Frugal Lucre is next on the list; he sticks out like a sore thumb, so much so that Kim has to grab him and cover his mouth so he doesn't give them all away. She notices that when her fingers curl against his trenchcoat, the man flinches. Far removed from her memory, it takes some time to remember exactly what she did that scared him so much.

"_You're skimming tips off of minimum wage workers, Lucre? Maybe next time you try White Collar crime, try not to do it at the Blue Collar level."_

Kim winces at that memory. It was last year in Smarty Mart, when Kim punched Lucre in the jaw so hard that he collapsed to the ground. Before he could come up with a retort, she brought her foot down like a gavel and slammed him in the throat. She hadn't used unnecessary force since — but she now understands his apprehension towards this gig. He has a right to fear her.

Kim doesn't know if that's good or not.

Lastly, aside from Rhino, who is sort of a given, is Kim's least favorite addition to the hit squad: Fukushima. _That_ Fukushima. Ron, erm, _Stoppable_, would be pissed if he knew. This is the Yamanouchi Rat himself. He betrayed Master Sensei, trying to uproot the Lotus Blade for himself and Monkey Fist. Since then, he has been living in a low rent studio apartment in Yokohama, occasionally picking up hit jobs from Big Daddy.

Fukushima is definitely not friendly, Kim recognizes that right away. He doesn't seem to trust her, which is likely fair, but also totally unacceptable. She considers telling him off right then and there, but knows that it likely won't amount to anything and is best saved for later in the job. To satisfy the initial tension, Kim takes Fukushima out to the food court while waiting for their plane.

"I'll be candid," Kim starts. "I'm doing this because I hate Master Sensei — I don't feel comfortable sharing why, but he did something to me… and has done something to the man who was my best friend."

Fukushima raises an eyebrow. "The outsider?"

"Yes, but don't call him that," Kim shakes her head. "I am trusting you — you don't have to be here. Your insider knowledge is already being covered by me. We could leave you behind, but we're not doing that. Because I think you have promise, and I know you are personally invested in this job. Do well, and there will be more."

The language of Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson comes so naturally to her, she is thankful but knows later that she will despise herself for such talk.

Fukushima shrugs. "Yeah, I get it. I'm assuming we aren't killing anyone?"

Kim nods. "Correct. If we do, it'll be a gang war, or whatever the equivalent is with a ninja school." She wants that to be funny, but it isn't. Both of their expressions are sullen. Kim suddenly feels very old. "We aren't equipped for that kind of conflict yet, obviously."

"Obviously," Fukushima repeats, staring at the table. "I am… adept at killing people."

"Hold off," Kim says. "We almost hired a straight-up hitman but I turned him down. I want to avoid that as much as I can."

The rest of the conversation passes on as normal, mostly schematics of the job and what exactly the plan is and who is responsible for what. This is much easier conversation, though Kim wishes there were more time to be sentimental.

But she is also thankful when they all board the plane and get to sit at different spots. Kim sits alone in Coach, thankfully next to a stranger who can't see past her disguise and clock her as the Kim Possible.

She brought things to do — like books — for the flight, but for some reason she feels like she doesn't have a right to engage in leisure when leading a hit like this one. So she stares out the window, running over the scheme again and again for hours and hours.

* * *

They stop on the ride up the mountain — which wasn't planned, although Rhino seems to at least be faintly aware of what is going on. A gray van is parked in front of them and while Rhino takes a moment to park the getaway van, Kim watches as the owner of the van kicks open the backdoors and steps out.

Nong Man.

What the fuck.

**Yamanouchi Mountain: Yamanouchi, Japan  
****February 24, 2008: 3:10AM**

Kim hastily yanks off her seatbelt and jumps out of the still moving car. She takes furious strides to better point a finger at Nong Man's face. "What are you doing here?!"

Nong Man playfully raises both of his hands in the air. "Yo, chill, Hank hired me. It's cool." His right hand splays open and gently falls down in an arc, pointing Kim towards the van which she now sees is loaded with artillery.

"Um."

"Yeah. **Um**." Nong Man laughs, seating himself above the license plate. "I know you're not a fan, but you need to be smart about this, Kimmie."

"Oh shit," Fukushima sighs with starry eyes, "Kim, you should have told us we were buying."

"We're not," Kim seethes.

"You don't have to," Nong Man shrugs. "But — "

Kim raises a finger to protest, when suddenly a splitting pain erupts in her head, so painful that her whole body bows down in agony. It's like a worm is trying to shimmy its way between bones. When she comes to, she steps back and realizes that she can actually see the faintest hints of Yamanouchi Ninja School from this spot on the mountain.

Nong Man narrows his eyes. "Yo, don't you usually have green eyes?"

Shit.

Kim looks to Rhino in a panic. "Rhino?"

Rhino's mustache droops. "Sorry, KP, you're blue eye-ing."

Fuck.

"Blue eye-ing?" Fukushima blurting out. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Do ya need contacts, Kimmie?" Frugal Lucre asks. Super unhelpful, and Kim does not understand why after what happened that he is now being so nice to her. As such, Kim doesn't respond to that.

"Um, it's hard to explain, but Ron and I — " Kim says carefully, knowing this makes her sound crazy. " — we're connected. It used to be in times of urgency, now — "

Frugal Lucre checks everyone's expression. "Little out of my field, can you clarify?"

Kim nods. "He has magical abilities that sometimes come to me when I need them, but lately, it's been — he just kind of stays in me and watches."

Of course Fukushima is the first to snap. "So you are a total liability."

"No, it's not like that," Kim says. "It's — not direct, even when I was taking his powers, he wasn't entirely aware of that. Trust me when I say — he doesn't know."

"That's true," Nong Man chirps, turning all heads to him. He shrugs. "What? Don't you guys go to a fucking library every now and then? This sounds accurate to what I know."

"What?" Kim rasps.

Nong Man chuckles and pats Kim on the shoulder. "You're good — it's not like it's in a book called _Mystical Monkey Power: What Do_, but it is out there."

Kim knows she should be thankful, but still: "Who are you?"

Nong Man shrugs like none of this is a big deal to him. "Dearie, I — am a _professional._ Now, surprise surprise, I am going to use this weirdo link with your ex-boyfriend to as an argument for why you need some guns."

Kim narrows her eyes. "No."

Nong Man holds his expression, which eventually gives over to gentle nodding. "Yeah, good, okay. So — can we sidebar? Please?"

…

Kim looks out to Yamanouchi off in the distance. She crosses her arms. It still feels weird being here without Ron.

"Okay, so — " Nong Man announces boldly. "What do you think the deal is? You still into this dude?"

Kim snorts. "I wish it could be that easy. He — he is obsessed with me… and I just want to move on." That seems like a fair oversimplification.

"Got it," Nong Man sighs. "So — you are kinda sorta hung up — and he is all in, which leaves spaces for these sorts of — psychic connections. Sound right?"

Kim sighs. She hates this, hates that this Nong Man is actually right about a lot of these things. Truthfully, it freaks her the fuck out and she wants nothing more than to banish him from her life.

Off Kim's silence, Nong Man digs both hands into his pockets and cranes his neck up to the starry skies. "Listen kiddo, I'm not just saying this because I want you to be corrupted. This is real. Somehow, this Stopstop kid's subconscious is tracking your aura — I'm guessing because he knows Yamanouchi so well that it's able to ensnare you here."

"Yeah," Kim rasps. She knew from the start that this wasn't because Ron was_ at_ Yamanouchi — he just leaves such a strong signature that anything familiar is bound to get her. Which is why she's been avoiding Middleton despite how much she misses her parents.

"So you need a new aura."

Kim turns back. "What? New — I don't — " she bites her lip, and then catches the implication. "Oh. Guns."

"Yeah, guns," Nong Man nods. "I get it, you don't like it — but be realistic — you aren't Miss. Nonviolent Direct Action like you want the media to think. To be truthful, I could take a few stabs at what you're playing but I won't because I know it'll make you feel like shit, clearly you don't like me." He smirks at her with a raised eyebrow, like he's already made his peace with this. Why does he care though? Like — what the fuck? "You're Big "Big" Daddy, you probably want to take over the world, but you're still scared of triggers."

"Double meaning, but yeah," Kim frowns, mind drifting back to her group in Foster City.

Again, Nong Man looks back to her with such understanding. It skeeves her out.

"If you want to lose Stopstop," Nong Man says. "You need to do something he would never expect you to do — and that means taking a gun and not just having one, but expecting to kill someone." His face is so serious. "I mean, drunk boxing is also an option but we've all seen what you're like under the influence — oh come on! That's funny, it's a joke, lighten up."

Kim looks back to Yamanouchi. Running a stealth mission under the noses of ninjas is — probably not smart. Currently, the plan is for Rhino and Lucre to run surveillance and the getaway vehicle. Aviarius and Fukushima do the sneaking with Aviarius being the brawn if something needs to happen… Kim was planning on flying solo.

"Kim."

She looks back to Nong Man, and his expression is warm. It reminds her of her father, despite this guy being a Greek dude with curly black hair who likes t-shirts and leather jackets. This is all so wrong — so fucked up — how is this the path that she is going down?

"Are you working me?" Kim asks suddenly, thinking of Shego, the woman who just adored working her. Who even from the grave is still working her.

"I mean, do I still want the gig later? Yeah, brah!" Nong Man laughs. "But in this moment — I am being practical, and if I may be bold, mi'lady, I think it would be good for you to break your norms. That is kind of the thing you do to get over break-ups."

Kim shakes her head. "Using guns to kill people is not how you get over a break-up."

Nong Man shrugs. "It is when you have a dramatic fucking life."

Kim sighs, looking at her freshly polished shoes already kicking up dust. She is still in that 'Shego-lite' outfit people keep making fun of her for. She thinks it all over. She thinks about Master Sensei, of that bloodthirst deeply embedded in her soul that does want him six feet under.

She thinks about how she needs to be the one to do it.

Kim looks up at Nong Man, carefully. It's her best _You better not be fucking with me expression_. She knows Nong Man gets that, and somehow knows he means well. She's tampered enough with good and evil to know the difference… or maybe not, she didn't have Global Justice pegged for what they really were until Will.

Stop it, Kim.

She winds back her shoulders.

"I'll take a gun, we keep that between you and me. Understood?"

Nong Man whistles. "Yeah, I'll settle for that."

* * *

Yamanouchi's guard is down for whatever reason. It worries her — is it possible that some of Sensei's agents are… deployed elsewhere? Is he actively working towards something?

But it's barren. Coming into this gig. But — here they are, and there are very few problems.

It makes Kim feel guilty over taking the gun when it wasn't necessary. She lies strewn across one of the rooftops, knees pushing into the shingled roofs. Under the thankful inclusion of a cloaking device, Kim's eye gets sore resting so long against the scope to her sniper rifle.

Yeah, that's right; Kim is on sniper detail.

**Yamanouchi Ninja School: Yamanouchi, Japan  
****February 24, 2008: 5:27AM**

Kim hasn't heard a peep from her people, which is likely a good thing, and no one has crossed her sights to warrant any kind of decision making. Is it always like this when you are on the other side? Or will Team Possible break-in within the next few minutes to kick their asses?

Kim shouldn't think about that; it makes her more sensitive to the pull of Ron's aura. It's difficult to resist, but she at least knows that even if alerted, Ron wouldn't be able to make it here in time. According to Kim's sources, Ron is not even on Global Justice's radar yet and Wade has already jumped ship to a job under Betty's supervision.

...oh wait, no, apparently Ron can transport himself? Okay, so maybe_ that _will happen. Really, she's not sure, but it could happen.

Hm, better way to put it: it will _eventually_ happen. Kim Possible vs. Ron Stoppable. It's inevitable. She just doesn't know if she'll have the heart to take him out.

(That's the weird thing — all odds are weighed against her but still she believes she will win.)

There's a creaking sound, and it snaps Kim back into attention. She nearly shifts the rifle an inch in her panic. By the time she catches herself, all she can see are the open double doors of Yamanouchi, a dark room lying just beyond her vision.

Heart pounding, Kim moves fast, gently turning the scope around trying to find her target and thankfully, he didn't get far.

Master Sensei.

He looks like death itself.

Shaking hand clutching a wooden cane. His skin is a sickly ray and a patch on his scalp is positively translucent; she has to look away from the bright blue veins threatening to rip through his paper thin skin.

Sensei did so much to her. Last winter, he broke her arm and forced himself on her. Later, just weeks before, he put Ron down a path where — Kim feels a tightening in her groin and cringes. Behind her Shego-Lite get-up, behind the exterior of this famous girl, she is a scared little trans kid. She tries not to think about it, she goes to sleep in the prosthetics that make her look like Kim Possible — but she can't look herself in the mirror, can't even take a shower out of the fear of looking down and seeing —

She's crying, forehead pressed to her rifle.

"_Kim_."

A shudder up her spine. She failed.

Footsteps. Kim can't bear to watch. This is when Ron kills her once and for all she's sure. When his white hands twist around her neck and crack it. But then there's a gentle touch to the small of her back, a touch that only someone who's been intimate with her would —

— Shego —

"_Sh_," the ghost says. Hair frazzled, an ugly and infected cut running through the eye, chunks of skin collapsed, leaving just the bone, Shego's ghost stares at her. "_You know why I'm here, Princess."_

"I'm losing my mind," Kim mutters, trying to look away. This is because of Ron, it has to be, because his powers are running through her subconscious and pulling out every rotten thing there should be.

"_Don't look away from me,_" Shego hisses. "_You're gonna shoot him, right, Princess? Please. After what he did to you…"_

Kim doesn't know if this is real, as in whether it's her own mind turning against her or if it's that fucking aura. Snot bubbles at her nose as she tries to maintain focus on Sensei, trying to imagine herself killing him, trying to make herself want to do it.

Because it would be so easy.

"Is this real?" Kim whispers.

Shego throws her hair back. "_Confusing, isn't it?_" Off Kim's silence, Shego shrugs. "_Kimmie, just take the fucking shot already."_

Kim's jaw is clamped so tightly now it hurts. She can't speak, can't think of anything worth saying.

This is what she has been anticipating, she just never thought it would come to her so early. Dammit, why does he have to be standing there right now?! Can't he just fucking move out of the way so she doesn't need to think about this so hard?

"_Kimmie, careful_…" Shego warns.

Kim opens her eyes, which she didn't realize she shut, and notices the gun drifting off target. Shit shit shit. Maybe he isn't standing there anymore.

Kim's arm quivers as if it has lost all bone structure and she loses her aim. Her other hand smashes the gun from above and she's back on target. She must have drifted in the freak-out. Stupid idiot.

Sensei's eyes are closed and it's impossible to tell what he's thinking about. Kim wants him to be imaging the most heinous things so she can feel better about the bullet to his skull, but that's probably not the case.

Kim's jaw tightens even more, if that is still possible and she really focuses on Sensei's scalp and imagines the blood that would splash across the steps of Yamanouchi. How immediately so much of her master plan would no longer be necessary.

"_Kimmie_," Shego giggles. "_You're ready for this, aren't you?"_

Anger bristles all over Kim — and she knows she should be able to do this. She's lived through so much now so quickly, she should be able to just take the shot at this helpless —

— old

— man

— just looking at the sky.

Kim elbows the sniper rifle, jerking it down and the barrel high into the air.

Pathetic.

Tears blurring her eyes, Kim peaks to her right, and at least that ghoul isn't sneering at her anymore. She looks back out to Sensei. Slowly, he hobbles on his cane back to the doors. Whatever opportunity she just had to end this once and for all is gone.

Some Big "Big" Daddy she is turning out to be.

…

Sensei turns. There is a rush of power that blazes up the slanted roof, plowing shingles free and striking Kim in the abdomen, running her against the lifting ceiling. It feels like death, like most people would die when something like this happens to them. But this is Kim Possible: Glutton for Punishment.

Kim falls several yards and crashes against the floor. Everything hurts. Her legs quiver like harp strings as she tries to get up, but there's no relief. A ninja comes at Kim from the front. Kim springs into action, limbs moving fast, slapping away the ninja's punches and kicks while she tries to recuperate herself.

Kim stumbles back, the metal stilts giving her the extra inches to her old height slipping away from her hooked in feet. They wobble and the precious seconds it takes for her to steady herself leave her totally open to a punch in the face. Her head jerks back and blood shoots from her mouth and onto her cheek. She drags her knuckle against the sticky red. Maybe she deserved that.

She feels a bruise plume over her eye, lid falling half-mast. She tries to blink but the damn flab of skin just hangs there worthlessly. Great.

Kim moves, punching and kicking at the ninja's swipes at her. She does so aggressively, trying hard to push back against his offense and slip in. She finds her opportunity by the time her limbs already sting all over, and twists the ninja's arm behind him. He screams, and she can't deny how good it feels to hear him squeal like that. Then he does some gymnastics and swings his legs under and over, grabbing Kim's neck like a pincer. She chokes and falls flat to the ground.

The ninja dismounts and raises a dagger high, bringing it down to Kim's head. Last second, she grabs his wrist and holds him back, managing to get him to slip off target and sink the blade into her shoulder instead. She screams and kicks him off her, plucks the knife free and goes on the offense. She knocks him back fast and finds her window: the slit in his mask. She can stab it.

But stabbing is wrong. Kim hesitates and at the last moment she can, flips the knife so that it's the handle that strikes the man. She hits him hard enough to make him bleed at least, he falls over.

Shuffling from all around — she's surrounded, of course. Eying her competition, Kim brings the knife to her collarbone and digs it under the top button to her blouse, slicing it off and letting the shirt breathe. She loosens the crimson tie and looks all around her, then gives them her best scary grin.

They aren't scared, and they swarm in on her. No matter how many she kicks down, they come back, or maybe they don't, there's just that many. It's like being swarmed by moths —the way the black flickers across her. She fights them, but there's no sense of this ending. They swipe at her and it's not like her old fights — they hit her hard. They carve a blade across her thigh, stab her in the stomach, slice into her back, and crack her arms.

Kim spits up blood. Possibly something else. Her suit hangs open with enough cuts to make it look like a pattern. She slaps a hand to her earpiece. "Lucre, they're coming for me. Make sure Fukushima and Aviairus get everything."

Kim doesn't know why she says that. It's a bad strategy. A boot to her head kills the earpiece and she is alone. Her ear rings both with pain and white noise; she can't hear shit from her right side now which is just fucking peachy. She draws ragged breaths in a brief lapse as several of the ninjas line themselves up to strike.

She's not dead yet.

The ninjas charge, but one foolishly leads the pack. Good. Kim dodges a swing from his katana and steps into his range, slapping her tie around his neck and pulling. His face goes blue, and she can't care. She pivots around him, using the guy as a shield to get the ninjas away from her and onto one side of the room. But eventually she hears a gurgle and knows she needs to let go, so she does and kicks him in the spine as he slumps to the floor. Steps back and feigns a grin.

"Enough," one says. He stares at her with beetle black eyes, like he's waiting for something. Then he charges at her.

He feints. Drops a smoke bomb. It goes everywhere. Kim can't see shit. Blades dig into her again, one really close to her collar bone, and one at the knee. It's too much. She falls back, fingers feebly twitching inward. It's hard to breathe.

The smoke clears and the ninja steps over her. "_Who the fuck do you think you are?_" he growls.

She tries to spit in his face but it doesn't work. "I'm Kim Possible," her lips flub.

He nods and reaches into her panties, grabbing tightly to her groin. Goddammit, **enough**. She lunges forward and sinks her teeth into the bastard's ear. He screams and falls back. She breaks free, his mask caught on her teeth, something fleshy lolling on her tongue. She doesn't want to know what it is (though she can take a good guess), and she spits it out.

She runs. Or limps. Whatever.

One leg can still carry her far.

_Please fucking tell me it's still here, please tell me it fell with me…_

She throws back the boards of wood and finds it. She twirls around and trains the rifle on Hirotaka, now clutching the whole right side of his face as blood slips past the creases. He notices the gun and steps back.

It's Hirotake, his hair all bunched up and sweaty, hand flat to his face, cheek coated in blood more and more by the second.

Her lip quivers, she knows her pupils are fully dilated now. "P-p-please, don't make me do this…"

She steps back. This is it.

Kim knows how this looks. How… how mafia she feels. Disheveled, dark colors, limping, hardly able to keep a grip. It's not who she wants to be.

"I don't want to kill you," Kim gulps.

"**It would be an exercise in futility,"** his voice is like trees crashing in the forest. Though worn, a faint whistle tails his sounds. Kim doesn't need to look to know it's Master Sensei, flanked by the rest of his ninja army. All of them. Kim hardly made a dent.

"**You thought you could rob me blind,**" Sensei muses. "**You thought you could take me on by yourself.**"

Kim can't stomach turning around. She keeps the gun pointed at Hirotaka. She's made it so far, it's not ending here. She must live. There's work to be done.

"**Hirotaka. Come**."

Kim grimaces. Hirotaka eyes her nervously, like she's an attack dog that'll spring if he moves too suddenly. Kim narrows her eyes and keeps her gun on him, but pivots along with his limp.

"**You lose, Kim Possible,**" Sensei cackles. "**It's over now. Drop the gun. You know you can't do it."**

Kim can't. Kim doesn't want to kill, she can't kill, she's been so explicit about this. She reads comics about heroes who always find another way, she reads letters from children who love how happy her life is… Kim Possible does not kill. Because she could never overcome cutting a bloody path.

_But I have to, I have work to do,_ Kim swears to herself.

That ghastly apparition of Shego reappears. His skeletal jaw cracks open. "_Puh-lease, Princess. You can do anything…"_

Kim shuts her eyes, or at least tries to, one eyelid still isn't working. But when Kim reopens them she feels okay. Not too scared. She readjusts her aim. Deep breath.

Sensei's smirk unearths itself from his mighty beard. "**Coward. You can't even do what you know is necessary."**

"_**Oh yeah?!**_" Kim spits, her voice falling into that ugly, scratchy tenor. She feels the testosterone rip through her limbs as she raises the rifle. "_**Well then make my fuckin' day!**_"

Kim pulls the trigger. The bullets run up Hirotaka's spine, his body jerks like a ragdoll. She meant to go for the throat to punctuate the kill, but she probably did enough. As the body falls to the side she turns on the ninjas. They're readying themselves to charge, so she shoots at them too. She notices a faint blue fly up, she shoots that and bullets ricochet everywhere. A lot of people die. It's very fast.

But Kim runs out of ammo fast, her hand goes to reload when she realizes — she has no idea how to do that. Silently, the living ninjas are preparing themselves and Sensei himself is doing — something — with his own magical abilities. Kim winces.

Then another series of bangs. When Kim looks up, she sees nice and clean headshots that send even more of the ninjas back. A body drops besides her and Kim almost turns on him, but quickly notices that it's Nong Man.

Casually, he slips two revolvers out from the back of his jacket and grins, giggling under his breath. "This is the best part." He snaps his fingers and _BOOM! _An eruption from behind Sensei, that whole portion of the temple going up in flame. More death.

Sensei is really pissed now. His robes hover, blue light showing how deep his wrinkles fold over.

"Kid," Nong Man says, pulling the Lotus Blade from his jacket. He passes it to her backhand, like a basketball player. "Do the thing, yeah?"

"What?" Kim rasps. Sensei's got a blue orb or something now — it's heading towards them, destroying everything in its path. Nong Man looks pissed, Kim's just confused. She panics and runs at the blast and swings at it.

Everything freezes — sort of, it's hard to explain. Whatever was supposed to be a fatal burn becomes a gentle breeze sweeping over her. She hovers in a pool of white light for a second, one hand on the Lotus Blade, another clenched around — Ron's faroff heart.

She faintly sees Ron's eyes staring at her from the distance, they look at her with such disdain. She wishes it wasn't like this with them, but she stares back at him. Moments pass and the blue builds up quickly, getting closer and closer to Nong Man, the gentle breeze picking up into a whirlwind threatening to snap every bone in her body before burning the flesh into ash.

Then Ron blinks, and Kim feels a mighty crack as the blue is sucked into her chest, and they are whisked away to —

— Kim's back slams into the van and she falls to the ground, legs like jelly under her. She faceplants into mud, Lotus Blade falling to her side.

Nong Man grabs her gently by the shoulders, rubbing smooth circles into her back. "Hey, hey," he says. His voice is so warm. "You rooting' tootin' son of a bitch! You fucking — Kim, Kim, look at me!"

Kim turns, and though she sees Rhino's van behind Nong Man, nothing makes sense yet. She's in a daze, she feels Ron's heartbeat fall into her pulse aggressively. Wherever Ron is, he's pissed. Usually Kim feels worse, but he's the one who latched his fucking aura onto her. Weirdo.

Nong Man waves for the others to come over. Kim looks up and sees that Aviarius and Fukushima brought in a good haul.

"Yo, what?" Fukushima pats his head.

"Kimmie here just did some boss ass shit, didn't you, Kimmie?" Nong Man grins and when she doesn't say anything, he toussles her hair and waves the others off. "Yo, Kim, KP, Kimmie, whatever, look at me. Please."

Kim nibbles on her lip. "I — um — why are you — "

"I heard Lucre give the order for your goons to — um — ignore you in your little — suicide ploy? I-dee-kay, it's cool for now," Nong Man shrugs. "And decided to get in on this, but dude, that was all you. _Make my fuckin' day, _huh? Badass, fistbump me?"

Kim meekly gives the man at least that. She looks down at her chest and sees how much damage she just took, how much blood is emptying from her. Somehow, she's alive. She just killed a lot of people — but she's alive.

Kim looks up. "I guess… you want to be my number two? You're about to ask me, don't roll your eyes — that's what you want though."

Nong Man shrugs again. "Yeah, I mean — listen. I'm getting the impression Shego didn't treat you right — and that Sensei dude definitely fucked with you, and your ex-boyfriend is, uh, a flaming douche."

"But they don't kill for fun."

"Eh," Nong Man says. "I want to help you. Sincerely, I'm not gonna fuck you over or whatever tinfoil hat shit you're cooking up, and I'm sick of killing people for no reason. It's like _so boring_. You though? You got clear intentions."

Kim stares at him, and then gets up, running her numb hands down her legs. "Fine. But give me some space right now. I feel like shit."

Why did that feel so normal? Isn't she supposed to cry? Or something? Anything?

Why doesn't she feel even a shred of sympathy for what she just did?

* * *

No one from the Bermuda Triangle gets to hear about the coulda-would-shoulda of the year. The hesitation that triggered any of that fiasco.

But Kim's friends in group do.

**Foster City Self-Harm Support: Foster City, California  
February 27, 2008: 10:45PM**

Kim comes in near the end of the session, and she feels bad because her presence ruins someone else's moment. But all heads turn towards Kim, and not because she's Kim Possible but because she just — sort of comes as herself. She's not even trying tonight.

It's just a t-shirt and boy shorts. Her hair is ruffled, her skin drawn tight and several shades paler than usual. Eyes bloodshot from not sleeping the past few days. Shirt covered in cat hair because she hasn't changed clothing since she got home.

No hip pads, no breast fillers, no prosthetics, nothing. Just trans little Kim.

"K-Kim," one of the voices near her says. "What happened to you?"

"I can't talk about it," Kim frowns. She doesn't pitch her voice, she's so tired. It's just a scratchy tenor. She wonders if she is putting anyone in danger by being 'out' now. But what is she supposed to do? She can't keep living like this.

Kim slides into one of the open metal chairs. It makes her uncomfortable because it isn't where she usually sits, and everything is so strange to her. So many people talking at once and it's overwhelming, and they're all older than her now. She feels small.

The words don't come easily. Carefully, she looks at her friends, hand clamped over her bandages on her wrist, feet dangling above the cold, stone floor. The fluorescent lighting stings and everything is wrong.

"I…" her voice rasps. "...I could have killed the man who assaulted me in New Hampshire. I had a gun."

No one dares to say a word, they all just watch as she unravels. Something like this has been expected since the beginning, they all know that Kim is doing something far beyond what the media thinks. She isn't good at hiding things, it's all just… there. Especially tonight.

"He was just… standing there… I had it."

Kim looks up, cheeks shining now. It's humiliating to appear to them all like this, but who else is she supposed to tell?

"I could have changed the world," Kim says, heat rising to her temple. It makes her think she might pass out. She nibbles on her lip thinking. "I should have taken the shot but — I — I didn't…

I don't know why I did that."


	8. Have a Muy Bueno Day

Getting ready takes far too long, but as a public figure Kim has to, especially when being courted by BP. It's eye roll worthy but nevertheless, it's important and does factor in to her master plan. Town car waiting for her outside, Kim stares into the mirror, half-dressed.

A tentative knock at the door. "May I?"

Kim shrugs. "It's unlocked."

"A little unsafe, don't you, think?"

"Eh, I figured you would come up."

**Kim's Studio: San Francisco, California'  
****March 4, 2008: 10:32AM**

With much agitation, Hank steps over Kim's discarded clothing strewn everywhere. "You know, I was going to suggest we buy a laundromat to hide some of our money, but I'm starting to think we'd get no business from all the loads you have to do."

Kim raises an eyebrow at him, fastening her tie. She can never quite get it right on her first try. Fussing over her like she's his teenage kid, Hank scuttles over and takes over for her. He glances down at her bare legs, feet plugged into the metallic stilts given her the few inches she needs to look like Kim Possible. It seems to make him sad.

"Um — how's the HRT going?" Hank asks.

"Oh shit, I forgot to take my meds today actually," Kim frowns, looking over at the pill tray. She pulls away from Hank and grabs what she needs, gulping down a mouthful of water for the spironolactone, which tastes like a mint gone incredibly wrong. It's big and sometimes lolls about her mouth before falling down the throat. Next is the estradiol, much weaker in dosage. She slips a blue pill underneath her tongue, giving it time for it to dissolve.

"Those official dosages, or are you still winging it?" Hank asks pointedly.

"The latter," Kim says. "Um, can we talk about something else? Like plans for this mission?"

Hank rolls his eyes. "It's very open and shut, Kimberly. Your health though, is a loose end."

Kim looks back to the mirror. It's still hard, seeing that face staring back at her. It's all so unreal. Everything changes so quickly nowadays and she is supposed to adjust so fast. But nothing feels right. Not her body, not her home, nothing.

Still dressing in what Shego left for her, still eating those meals that are sent to her on a regular schedule.

Kim feels a pull near her neck, but doesn't resist. At some point, Hank unbuttons her blouse to peel it back, and is now running a hand across her shoulder. She shudders at his touch.

"It's okay," Hank whispers, thumbing one particular spot. "Kim, I'm seeing some acne here."

"Um…" Kim bites her lip, not sure what to say or how to defend herself. Hot tears spring to her eyes.

"Sorry, it's just — I saw some acne coming in on your jaw too," Hank frowns,

Blouse loosely held to her chest, Kim isn't sure what to tell him.

"You need to take a shower, Kim," Hank sighs. "I don't know how else to say this. Where are you getting your clothes from? The floor?"

"Um…" Kim's fingers fiddle with the blouse. She feels so small. "I can take a shower…"

"Take a bath," Hank shakes his head. Ha gazes back at Kim's closet and sees what is hanging in there is wrinkled, and looks back at her. "I'm getting all of this cleaned and ASAP, I am helping you move out."

Kim's mouth drops. "Move out? B-b-but, I — I like it here—"

"This is Shego's studio," Hank is talking down to her like a parent now. "I know because I've been here — please, Kim. Can you let me help you?"

"I'm broke," Kim says fast. "I can't afford anything — "

"Because you're refusing to take payments from us."

"It's blood money."

"You're changing that."

"I just killed more people than I could count."

Finally, some apprehension in Hank's resolve. He groans and looks off to one of the windows. "We'll talk about this later, but for now just take the bath."

* * *

Kim has been here before: stripped down to nothing while waiting for someone to give her something to own. But it's different this time, now her whole anatomy has been flipped. Anorexia has taken its toll on what used to be a much stronger frame, and her body is adorned in scars all over.

**Shego's Studio: San Francisco, California  
****March 4, 2008: 11:08AM**

Her skin is beet red from the heat of the water, but it is nice. It loosens the phlegm in her system, makes it easier to breathe. Carefully, she arcs her calve above the soap suds and runs her razor down its length. Quickly, it snags as it captures so much body hair; she's been avoiding razors lately for obvious reasons.

Feeling a little lonely, Kim wanders out of the bathtub, still dripping, opens the door. True to his word, all of her clothing is gone, even the bedsheets. Two of her cats spring into the bathroom, sniffing around wildly. She's thankful they are here, otherwise she would get awful sad. Walking back to the tub, she notes how her now-baby smooth legs feel so itchy. When one of the cats rubs against her ankle, the whole leg springs up from the touch.

Kim comes back into the bathtub and waits. She hopes that this BP thing works out okay considering how late they are going to be, considering how much of a timeline they are on… she tries not to think about that. Tries to think about the gangs she hired recently to keep a certain Monkey Master busy.

Kim hears sniffing and looks to see Edgar, her little panther, paw perched on the lip of the tub, eyes wide with concern. "It's okay, Edgar…" Kim sighs, letting herself sink deeper into the water. She closes her eyes and for a moment — Kim feels… kind of happy.

…

Kim wakes up later, skin spiked with goosebumps. It's cold and the water is gone. Sleepy, she blinks and looks to her left to see Hank staring at her. Her cheeks glow pink because she is naked and Hank's boss and —

— Hank can't see anything, Kim can't either. Her… her cats are piled up on top of her. One slung over her shoulder, two on her stomach and chest, one between her legs, and two on her thighs. Kim gets teary-eyed quickly. They're all sleeping like she was, their little bodies breathing gently, each of them like a sack of warmth on top of her frigid body.

"They really love you," Hank observes.

"Y-yeah," Kim stutters. "Um… s-s-sorry, I — I — I'm…"

"Kim, honey, it's okay," Hank says, reaching out and lifting her chin. "You have a whole new wardrobe and bed sheets. I broke the lease with your landlord."

"Huh? What time is it?"

"Late, you should go back to sleep. Um. Should I get your pajamas?"

"I wanna sleep here with my friends," Kim says carefully.

Hank nods carefully. She is starting to feel embarrassed, maybe she is being too childish. It's hard not to be sometimes.

Sheepishly, Kim adds on, "I don't want to wear the prosthetics anymore. I think… maybe if I'm open about my anorexia, people will believe the weight loss and everything."

"Good," Hank gets up, prim and proper, hands behind his back. "I will… be here promptly at 10 tomorrow. I'll drive you out to the port and we'll go from there. Is that okay?"

Right. Kim still has to _work._ She planned all of this out already. She wishes she could stay in this moment forever though.

"Okay," Kim says.

* * *

Kim spaces out constantly during the "tour." Some shill of a spokesperson is trying to convince Kim that BP is actually sustainable. It's pretty laughable, but she has to keep a straight face and be respectful. There are people watching and she needs to act like an adult.

**Off-Shore Drilling Platform: Pacific Ocean  
March 5, 2008: 12:14AM**

Kim is also fairly certain that her tour guide is also spacing out, because she catches him staring at her so many different times, and she knows what she's looking at: her flat chest and hips, her short stature, and baby fat-laden cheeks. It's really embarrassing. She is sure though that it will be easy enough to pass of as, "_I look different on TV_." She is not game to talk about anorexia right now.

Or what Ron did to her.

Her hands clutch the hem of her sleeveless, navy blue dress. She misses the black suit, misses how powerful and focused it made her feel, but also understands that she needs to break from Shego's grasp. She knows her friends at group would tell her she looks pretty today, and that it would make her emotional. Heck, she feels emotional just imagining it happening. Oh and group is today! ...but she might have to skip it because this mission is going to take a lot of backend work.

This is the easy part.

Speak of the Devil, Kim locks eyes with Yori. Decked out in a three-piece suit and sunglasses, hair-cut sharp and sleek, the Sensei-To-Be struts towards Kim fast. "Hi, I need to take Miss Possible from you for a moment. Extra security check."

Kim and Yori say nothing to each other for some time. The whole scene is tense. There are a lot of things Yori could lead with; she has a right to be pissed the fuck off.

"You killed my friends," Yori hisses once she is sure they are somewhere private. Just a generic, metallic hallway.

Kim bows her head. "They cornered me."

And then comes the slap. It hurts a lot, Kim doesn't try to resist it. It hurts a lot, and kinda makes her think of Shego and how Kim let Shego hit her. And she thinks about she would let Yori hit her too if it left room for me to be friends… or something else. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

Yori squeezes the bridge of her nose. "I know — Sensei told me. I had to attend a mass funeral a few days ago because of you. Sensei gave this big speech about how you are 'an evil that must be purged from the Temple.' I don't believe half of it, you weren't there to kill, right?"

Kim nods. "Yes," and she unsheathes the pen in her belt. The pen that isn't a pen but has taken the form of one to pass security checks. "For this."

Yori frowns. "Dammit, it's just — this is making it really hard on my end. I grew up with all of of them, you know?"

Kim doesn't feel like Big "Big" Daddy right now. "Sorry."

"Don't be fucking sorry — just — just — agh," Yori squeezes her palms. "I'm confused too. Did they hurt you? Sensei said some things I'd rather not repeat about you being trans, and I can see by looking at you that you're… um…"

"Yeah," Kim nods. "Um — the prosthetics got in the way of the fighting and they don't really make me feel like myseelf — c-can we — "

"Yeah," Yori nods, jerking her head down the hall for Kim to follow. They need to move to keep this on the right path.

Without looking back at Kim, Yori talks with her hands. "The problem now is that Sensei wants you dead — I pitched our plan of pretending to work for you but he just wants you dead."

Kim stops in her tracks. "Wait — so then — "

"I'm not listening to him," Yori replies. "But I'm worried if he's going to possess me again over it."

"Yori, I can teach you how to stave it off," Kim jogs to catch up. "Or at least — we can learn it together."

"That sounds nice," Yori seems to pick up the pace to ensure that she stays in front of Kim. But if Kim walked any faster, this would start to look ridiculous.

"Yori," Kim says suddenly, freezing in place. Slowly, Yori turns. "Take off your sunglasses."

After some hesitation, Yori does so, and Kim sees those eyes fraught with worry.

"I had to kill them," Kim says. "Or they would have killed me. This isn't like the old days where no was aiming to really murder me, I — I hate it, but please know that it wasn't out of hate or vegeance."

Yori wipes what might be a tear from her ear, knuckle clenched near her hip. She's trying.

Kim steps forward and a little boldly, wraps her arms around Yori's midsection and pulls her close. Tentatively, Yori slides a hand onto Kim's back. Neither of them want to be here, working on something bold like this but it doesn't feel like they have a choice. At least what's what Kim is taking from all this.

After the quiet moment passes, Yori takes Kim to their destination: the Power Core. Very sci-fi, it's a spherical shaped room with a bridge extending out into the middle where a thin, blue beam courses through some kind of crystal. Kim doesn't really understand it, but she trusts that it's ferociously unethical.

Kim hesitates when she pulls out the pen, concentrating for just a moment to pull some of Ron's power away from him to make the pen shift back into its true form of the Lotus Blade. She fears that he will come here immediately to stop her; it's bad. Somehow, Yori seems to understand Kim's feelings and pats her on the back, trying to push her to do what must be done with the blade.

Kim lead Ron to Australia in a wild goose chase of a mission that culminated in him spending the past few days fighting off goons she hired, spearheaded by Nong Man and Rhino. To Kim's knowledge from the last report, things have gone well and Nong Man has succeeded in some kind of theft that will benefit the Bermuda Triangle, while also draining Ron of much of his strength.

The concept is to keep Ron grounded and far away, so that what Kim is about to do next can really make a difference.

Biting her lip, Kim raises the Lotus Blade high. She winces, and stabs it into the metal console below the floating crystal. There is a crackle of electricity, and Kim leverges the blade to push the crystal out. The thin blue beam falls onto the Lotus Blade, and doesn't go through.

Everything plunges into darkness as everything on the oil platform stops mid-motion. Before she forgets, Yori stuffs the power crystal away into a satchel. Kim knows because she hears it, and looks to Yori who she can't see. They both stay still for a moment, listening. But the room is too big for them to hear anything from the outside, so they hit the ground running and make a move to rejoin the tour.

This cannot be framed as happening by Kim's hand, not when the world now knows her a nonviolent direct action activist. This sort of goes against everything she has stood for so far, but she won't deny its effectiveness.

Feeling no presence of Ron even in the back of her mind, Kim smiles because finally, things are starting to work out.

* * *

Ron is annoyed.

Ron flies all the way to Australia, by himself he might add — Yori's like busy or something — he's been called in to help out a wildlife preservation group rescue red-tailed black cockatoos. A select few citizens haven't realized that it's illegal to take the poor things from their home. Some others do and begin trading the endangered birds for money. But the birds are alive and need to be brought back home.

Is this something that needs Ron Stoppable? 1.) Certainly not, but it's been slow lately, and 2.) They asked him to come. Made a request through the website and everything.

But guess what? When Ron gets there, the requesters don't even know who he is. They have to look him up online! And even his Wikipedia page is wrong. The whole thing is confusing and after a call with Wade things start to get clear — someone wanted Ron to be in Australia.

**Downtown: Canberra, Australia  
March 6, 2008: 7:46AM**

It gets worse from there. A string of robberies hit this random city in Australia pretty hard, well, really a tangled knot of them. Because they aren't in quick succession, they are all a coordinated attempt of robberies on the same day. Of course Ron is the guy who can probably stop them.

He can't ID any of the thugs; if Wade were more present, Ron bets he could. But for now they are all anonymous. It's weird, right? See — Canberra, Australia is not known for crime. But it just so happens that when Ron is looped into some phony mission across the planet that _organized_ crime strikes. No one robs this many banks in the same day unless they are mafia with numbers to spare.

And who does Ron know who could arrange for such a heist?

Who does Ron know that has already hacked the Team Possible site before?

…

Who just killed a bunch of people at Yamanouchi?

Ron got played. He knows this. He tries anyways, going toe to toe with the mafia but his powers burn out fast. He can only move so quickly and hit so hard; he runs out of juice and has to handle the affairs like any other mortal might.

But that doesn't work either, Ron's not skilled enough without his powers to defeat even one mob. He gets so wrapped up in warping around Canberra to peck away at the individual gangs that he doesn't notice how much he's hurting himself.

Face drained into a ghastly white, he watches the first getaway vehicle drive off, knowing that the other getaways are doing the same thing.

Then — Ron feels a pull in his chest. It burns hard and probably leaves a mark. For a scant second, Ron can feel Kim's hand twirling the Lotus Blade. He feels her plunge it into some kind of metallic console and that's it. He would love to warp over and smack her to the ground for such insolence, but he can't. He's so fucking winded.

Fuck fuck fuck. His theory is definitely right.

Ron runs through Canberra like a moron, trying in a panic to figure out what happened. He runs into a coffee shop, checking if they have a television. They do! He flips through the channels and — and — and — nothing. He checks his smartphone and nothing on that either. What the fuck did Kim just do?

A half hour later Ron gets a call from Wade. Global Justice can't prove it because they aren't supposed to have access to the data that would incriminate Kim, but she just used the Lotus Blade to shut down an entire BP drilling platform.

Eco-terorism, is one of the words Wade says. It's supposed to be a protest against the BP guys for destroying the planet.

The issue is that no one can pull out the Lotus Blade. It won't freaking budge, and Ron — hilariously — can't warp over to fix it because he just drained himself in this freakin' blitzkrieg of a mafia hit. Meaning Ron has to hop onto a twenty four flight explicitly so he can pull a goddamn sheet of metal out of another piece of metal. So Ron asks Wade to book him a flight while he heads over to the airport.

But Wade runs into a problem immediately; Ron already _has_ a flight booked for today. Yeah. Not because he accidentally selected _round trip_ on Priceline, but because someone bought him a ticket already.

He can almost hear Kim laughing up a storm across the planet, probably clinking wine glasses with Hank Perkins and Big Daddy Brotherson.

All because Kim freakin' Possible waysided him across the planet.

* * *

"You paid for my flight?!"

"_Um — uh, yeah. Hey Ron? But y-yes — yes, I did_."

"Kim! What — the — fuck."

"_Um, I don't know — I just figured that it's not fair for you to have to pay a thousand dollars because of something I did._"

**Canberra Airport Food Court: Canberra, Australia  
March 6, 2008: 12:04PM**

Ron stands in the middle of the airport, one-arming his backpack. He doesn't have a lot of time to board his flight, but there is absolutely no way he is taking this really long flight on an empty stomach. He needs to eat something.

"A thousand dollars?!" Ron yelps. "I thought — what?! Last time I saw you, you were talking about taking the bus — "

"_Did you already forget about what happened at BP?_"

Ron freezes. He kind of sort of did, he'd rather not think about the bad moments with Kim, given how many of them there are. But maybe he should let those images burn themselves into his memory. "Okay, but — a thousand dollars a-a-and, well, wow." He rubs his chin. "You totally arranged for those bank robberies, huh?"

There is a prolonged silence where neither of them say a thing, so long that Ron needs to check that he didn't get disconnected. "Kim," he reminds her.

Kim rasps when she speaks. "_Yes, I — Ron, I don't think it's okay for us to be talking like this. We're — we're enemi—d-did they hurt you?_"

"Hurt me?" Ron blurts out. "N-no, I'm fine, I… is this… is this retaliation for Yamanouchi?"

Weird that he is at a point with Kim where when he brings these sorts of things up, he does so vaguely because the things he knows about Kim now are all things he learned secondhand.

"_No,_" Kim says. "_I just need this BP thing to last for a while. It's nothing personal against you, you just happen to be the one who can actually use the Lotus Blade._"

Ron buries his face into his hand. "I get that — but I really wish you picked anyone else for this. I can't be the only King Arthur and Excalibur combo, can I?"

Wow, that's a weird question. Maybe Ron should try to get ticked off. It's been going well for him on internet forums so far at least.

"_Um… I mean, I think you are?_" Kim's voice trails off. "_Sorry…_"

Ron nods slowly. "Kim, I think it's badical that you are going toe-to-toe with big oil companies, fossil fuels are bad — but — um — you're going about it the wrong way! Like — I know you're, like, big and powerful now, somehow — but please let me be your voice of reason, okay? Kim — why are you — fuck me, man. This is crazy. Kim, you killed people to do this."

Kim gets defensive. "_I killed people to live, you want to see my scars_?"

Ron gulps. Probably not. He wants no excuses to feel sorry for Kim. Trying to distract himself, he cranes his neck around and his eyes catch on a Bueno Nacho in the food court. Eureka. "Sensei told me you did it as some kind of witch hunt."

"_No_," Kim says. "_I don't do that — Ron, you need to stop believing everything that creep tells you _— "

"Oh, yeah? And then who do I trust — _you_? El oh el, Kay Pee," Ron growls, trying to play it off like he's not about to blow a gasket. "I mean — and I'm not just saying this just to say it — but if you told me you needed the Lotus Blade for whatever you ended up needing it for — you could have asked. I would have helped you out. Maybe even given you a week of lead time before I sped over to get the blade out but as it stands right now? You lied to me and — wait a tick."

"_Ron — I should go,_" Kim says in a hurry. Oh no, not this time Kim.

"How did you use the Lotus Blade?!" Ron looks up at the Bueno Nacho crew member and mouths _One second_ before retreating to his phone.

"Sir, we can't serve you…" the crew member says nervously, but Ron doesn't hear them.

"Did you like my use my powers or something like that?! Because I thought we agreed that is super weird and I don't like it."

"Sir? Sir! We're not allowed to serve you," the crew member raises their voice. "Please step out of the line.

Ron mouths another _One second_, God, whatever they're saying is so annoying, give a guy a break, ya know?Whatever, Ron starts shouting again. "Is that your plan? You're going to burn whatever fuel is left in me because guess what Kim! We're finished! You want to connect to my heart — yeah, right, good fucking luck because after ths I am going to — "

"_Ron, stop!_" Kim's once clear voice becomes distant crackling static as a burly man's arm steers Ron out of line. He towers over Ron. Looks like someone who was standing behind him in line. Ron is pretty sure Kim says something like "_Don't act like you're the one falling out of love with me first_," but it's hard to hear.

"Can't you hear what he's telling you?" the burly man thumbs towards the quaking crew member. "They said they can't serve you."

"What?" Ron rasps and looks over to the crew member.

The crew member closes their eyes and nods. "We're not allowed to serve you anymore, Mr. Stoppable. I'm sorry, but we were emailed to never serve Ron Stoppable at any of our 36,899 locations."

Ron's heartbeat doubles and his lips thin and turn white. "Et tu, Bueno Nacho?"

"'Fraid so," the crew member says gravely. "But have a muy bueno day."

It's like walking into a parallel dimension. Ron steps out of a Bueno Nacho queue for the last time and feels energy pulsating from his body. He notices a blue tendrils fly out from his hip and knock over a stack of magazines. He should care but he doesn't. He trudges along and picks the phone back up.

Kim sounds hysterical; she's been shouting his name with no response for the past twenty seconds. "Hey KP," he says dully. "I gotta go — Bueno Nacho just banned me for life."

"_What? Ron, what are you talking about?_"

"I don't know! They just told me. KP, seriously I gotta go find something to eat, my flight's boarding — "

* * *

It's hard to understand what's going on; there is this horrible clattering on the other end of the line. As if a giant swept their arm through the room and knocked everything over. Kim keeps asking Ron what the noise is but he doesn't seem to hear her. His voice gets louder and louder, his loopy high-pitched goofballin' tone darkening into something scary.

"_Ron. Stop,_" Kim says suddenly. She winces because it's scary to be so confrontational, especially with a boy she half-expects to warp across the entire planet just to smack her in the face. But Ron stops and Kim can hear more of that noise — is — is that his magic?

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
March 8, 2008: 5:09AM**

Kim knows she should hang up. Knows that she has so much more she could be doing right now. Knows that she looks really stupid and ugly sitting around the Bermuda Triangle bar before opening hours, all dressed up in her pajamas because she couldn't sleep last night.

She was having nightmares and her cats were so restless from not being played with that they kept climbing all over her. White noise has been ringing in her ears all night. Kim needs a break and the single worst person to talk to is Ron — so maybe that's why she is allowing this.

Kim looks down at her glass of water, half-expecting Ron's powers to crackle into her area and for the water to plume into tremors from his sheer might. She speaks carefully, and from experience. "Ron. Breathe in. Breathe out."

"_Kim, it's not that big of a — _"

"Yes. It is."

Ron's end of the line quiets down for a second and she can hear him wheeze as he takes those precious breaths. She knows it's hard, she learned this from group and still struggles with it. And this assures Kim that she's right and that Ron needs help as much as she does, but good luck convincing him of that.

Still, there is this odd shimmering distorting the soundscape around him. Something unearthly, almost alien. Kim was hoping that Ron would have learned how to control his temper by now but —

"Did your powers flare up while we were talking?" Kim talks like someone pleading to a man with a giant mallet about to slam into the sheet of ice Kim needs to stay intact so she can tiptoe across. "I'm not judging you Ron, just please tell me."

"_Yeah, they did. I made a mess. It's just some chairs that fell over but —_ "

"It's okay. You're okay."

Another deep breath. These are basic things, but we all forget eventually. Because we get sad and forget. Then we have to labor to relearn it. It's just breathing, but it matters. If nothing else, Kim hopes she can at least give Ron her coping mechanisms. She still wants to help him.

"_Kim — this tanks_," Ron finally says. She hears the squish of a cushion and can assume he sat down. "_Sensei's a nut — like no way he can teach me anything. And — and _— "

"I can teach you," Kim doesn't know why she says that. She winces. If he says yes, she could take advantage of that — it would really help in her world domination scheme honestly. "Pick up where we left off."

There's a long enough pause that tells her that at least Ron considers it. But she knows he'll say no, and then he does.

"_I don't think that's a good idea, KP, sorry. Listen, I have to board my flight soon and I seriously need to eat something, we can talk later_."

"Wait," Kim holds out a hand as if to stop someone. It's easier to imagine him there and going through the physicality of it. "Ron, I lied to you."

"_No shit_," he says dryly.

She snorts. "Or like, we're dancing around it. You mentioned it when — um — everything happened at BP..." Kim feels really small now, she knows she should hang up. She doesn't like talking to Ron, it makes her want to cry.

Oh, no, she is crying. "I am in charge of the Bermuda Triangle. I know what that makes me sound like, I know it's easier to just call me a bad guy, but I'm not. I… I want to use my power to help people. I'm trying to do this differently, and I don't want us to be enemies."

Ron is really quiet. They did sort of breeze through this topic really quickly all the way back in London. "_Kim_?"

Breath Possible. Do what you just told Ron to do. Pretend there's eye contact to be made. Speak from your heart. "Do you understand what I'm trying to do?."

"_Oh no_," Ron moans.

Kim sucks it up and speaks boldly, she has to, she has to believe that this conversation can still have some kind of meaning no matter how fucked up things have gotten.

"I want to save the world by taking it over," Kim cringes because that sounds so stupid and she shuts her eyes even though he can't see her. After a while he's worried he hung up on her.

She pulls the phone backs and sees that they've been talking for six minutes and thirty seven seconds. Thirty eight. Thirty nine. Forty. Forty one.

"_Wait what?_" Ron finally says.

"Our planet is on a crash course to be destroyed if we let these fossil fuel overlords have their way with it," Kim explains. "A-and the people in power don't want to do anything… so I figured…"

"_You've become a Crime Lord_."

"Um, y-yeah," Kim stutters. "W-w-w-well… n-no…" Why does she always sound so stupid when she's trying to talk to Ron? "That's just what was offered to me… it's what Shego left for me and what Drakken wanted me to do. I know you hate the two of them — but I trust them. I want that to mean something for you."

"_Kim, can't you tell that Shego is still abusing you from beyond the grave?_"

Kim knows that, but she can't just tell Ron that in a phone call; it would ruin everything she is trying to say, and besides, this isn't about her anyways.

"I'm using what I have, okay? A-and I know what it looks like with the robberies, b-but those are just so we can stay in business… I've been trying to keep us afloat and it doesn't work when we're just doing nonviolent direct actions."

"_Kim, we used to stop criminals from robbing banks for fun. You know that's wrong."_

"It's not — I mean, who is getting hurt? The banks — "

"_I'm hurt,_" Ron says simply. She can picture him shrugging when he says it too.

" — that's different."

"_Yeah, okay."_

Clearly, this isn't going how Kim wanted. Maybe she's delusional to think she can shift Ron to her said, maybe that moment passed by a long time ago.

"_How did you even get the blade, I'm still lost on that," _Ron says. _"You couldn't have been alone, right?"_

Kim bites her lip. Telling Ron who helped her is a horrible option, but it's the truth, and Kim wants to think that if Ron knows all the facts that he _will_ make the right choice. "I hired Frugal Lucre, Aviairius, and that guy Fukushima."

Ron doesn't say anything for a long time. She knows that really pissed him off. Thankfully, he gets past it, though his voice is caked in grief.

"_Okay_," Ron says quietly. "_I trust you at least, or like, I know you're not playing me. This is all — like, way too specific. And stuff. So um — you're a crime lord now? What do they call you? Don Possible?_"

"Actually the title is just Big "Big" Daddy — "

"_That's stupid_."

"I know," Kim deadpans.

Finally Ron laughs and it feels just like old times even though it's anything but. Even though it's just a fleeting moment in a sea of bad moments.

Kim presses her hand flat against empty air — they're on opposite sides of the planet but it's easy to imagine him doing the same. She wants this to last forever, his laughter is so nice. It's… assuring.

Kim also knows that one day she is going to have to kill Ron — if he doesn't get to her first. There's no ending where what they both want can coexist sustainably. Especially after what he did to her in London.

Her friends in group would be disappointed in her right now, she's sure, to be talking to her ex like he's just some funny dude; he's not. He's a monster.

"_So you want to kill Sensei, huh?_"

That's more than enough to startle Kim out of her little moment. She starts by stuttering her way into some kind of explanation. "Um… I… it's not that… simple, Ron."

"_Uh-huh, yeah, whatever. So I'm guessing you're also gonna try killing Betty too, right?"_

"Ron…"

"_I mean, Kim, you're telling me straight up that you're the bad guy."_

"But I'm not."

"_Then who is?"_

Kim's teeth form two perfect lines. She struggles to take in a much needed deep breath. "Okay — I — I'll be honest but you need to promise not to laugh at me." She gives Ron a second.

"Note: Serious face," he says and waits patiently. But she doesn't say anything. "Kim?"

Kim can barely hear him. Her chest is heaving so hard that it's messing with her posture. Why did she put herself out there? If she tells him the truth — he's going to lay her into her fucking grave. But she can't just let this keep happening, she needs to tell him.

Maybe if she rehearses it in her head real quick. Words you think pass by faster than words you say. Kim just needs a few seconds to formulate a good response before it gets really awkward.

Um. Um. She looks up at nothing in particular for inspiration. Fuck. Shit. Piss. Ass.

Wait Kim, stop. Those are just swear words. That's not helpful right now.

I… I want to take power away from those that are abusing it, that have the foresight of what their actions may lead to, but still do nothing. People could so much good but choose not to in the face of greed. People who hurt others, who blame others for things they didn't do, who hit and destroy.

I want trans people like me to feel safe. No, you can't say that, Kim, he'll laugh at you — Ron doesn't understand what he did to you, no one does except you… um… I… I don't know what I want. No. I do.

I want queer people to get the help they need, and for politicians to listen to people of color. I want so many things I guess, and I think what I want involves enough damaged people that I feel okay leading this… I want to save the world from itself… ? I have to… I have to…

Kim shuts her eyes, blinking back tears. This isn't easy, and something about Ron's voice makes her feel small and scared. He reminds her of Shego, in his own weird way. Maybe it makes sense, she saw what he did to Shego's body, the way his powers ravaged her. And she remembers the hate in his eyes when he looks at her, and she thinks about all the wretched things he's used his powers for…

Kim, focus — please, be strong. Show Ron you mean something, and you matter a-and… use that speech you just thought up! Just — um — cut some words on the fly.

Ron will hear you out and finally we can stop fighting.

Deep breath. She opens her mouth and tries to start her story but instead her throat cracks apart from being so dry. A sob tears from her lungs. Her spine contorts and the phone slides flat against her cheek. Fingers twitch, phantom pains burn through every line on her wrists, a shake in her shoulders and her frame shrinks in on itself again.

"_Kim?_"

Kim hates that sometimes she feels so sad that she can't even read. Hates that just the mere mention of Ron's name scares her so much that she can't even move. Hates that he still has so much power over her despite all the distance she has tried to wedge between them.

"It's you, Ron," Kim manages to say, and her heart thumps in her chest. She knows this is her truth. "I'm trying to stop people like you."

Ron says nothing for some time. Kim winces, half-expecting a blue talon to rip through the phone and claw her face off. But he's probably too shocked to do any of that nonsense.

That's when two burly arms wrap around Kim and lift her off her feet. It's a surprise bear hug that crushes her spine. Her head twists up and she sees Rhino's big, doofy face. "Hi Rhino," she croaks. "I'm a little busy right now."

"'Ey, I know, but I don' like seein' ya pretty face cryin', want me to make you a strawberry smoothie?" Rhino cracks a grin. "Oh, who ya on the phone with?"

"_Kim, who is that_?" Ron asks.

"Um…" Kim sniffles and wipes the tears from her face.

"'Ey kiddo. My name's Rhino. I'm KP's driver."

There's a painful silence; Kim is really regretting letting Rhino call her that.

"_Oh okay. Hi Rhino. Well… alright Kim__**berly**_," Ron says exactly what she figured he would. "_Gotta go, bye._"

He hangs up before she can say anything more.


	9. Strong Asks

"So, Big Daddy, the way I see it, we have Jack Hench at the end of his rope and we just need to cut off what little left he's holding."

"I don't disagree, but I think it would be best practice, Hank, for us to wait for a confirmation from our leader…"

"Oh, come off it, Big Daddy, you know she's been doing better lately…"

"_I have been doing better lately!"_

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
March 10, 2008: 9:18AM**

Kim kicks the door open and struts into the meeting room with what looks to be a new three piece suit, all black and all pinstripes. It's very sleek on someone with her figure.

Meanwhile, Hank shakes his head in disappointment. "Please tell me you weren't waiting — " He checks his watch. " — eighteen minutes so you could make a dramatic entrance."

Kim shrugs and swings her legs over the back of her chair, falling into place with her heels on top of the table. She pulls a remote out from under one of her lapels and points it at the middle of the room. A thin blue beam streaks out of the remote and explodes into a full 3D grid that expands around the entirety of the room. Neon blue crystals drift in the air as the beams whirl around to create a diagram.

"Where did you — " Hank starts.

"Had some extra money lying around in the budget since our Australia robberies," Kim says, flicking her wrist to regain the duo's attention. Three holographic figures stand around the Bermuda Triangle — Steve Sisolak, Chris Giunchigiliani, and Jack Hench. "Refresher — Chris G and Hench are still butting heads in the Democratic Primary, and Sisolak is uncontested with the Republicans. Regardless of our NRA trick last year, Hench is pulling ahead in the polls by a lot."

Big Daddy grins and tents his fingers. He does love a good plan.

"Let's do a quick Jack Hench overview, yeah?" Kim says, motioning at her right side where more holograms plume down, now showing models of several mail order henchmen. "Jack is the CEO and President of Hench Co. If he becomes the next Governor of Nevada, he will need to give that up as a major conflict of interest."

Hank purses his lips. "Kimberly, if you wanted to get this advanced, you should've just made a Prezzy."

Kim snorts. "However, as I learned recently, Jack Hench is _also _the CEO of BP Oil. But people don't know that. Why?"

Hank blinks, and looks to Big Daddy who also blinks back. "Is that rhetorical?" Big Daddy rubs his chin.

Kim scoffs, head dipping back into her chair. "No, we need to answer that — obviously he wants to keep BP. But why? Doesn't he know he can just take it back after his Governor's run if he goes public with it?"

Hank blinks, and then snaps his fingers. "Something happened and he isn't sure that's the case, right?"

"Bingo," Kim flashes her canines. "There must be some kind of power struggle — the reports I'm getting from leaked Global Justice intel is that Jack Hench is partnered with GJ _not_ because of his political run — but because of BP and Hench Co. So… what do you think I'm asking?"

Big Daddy drums his fingers against the table. "You want a Progressive to win the Governor's seat — tall order though for Nevada. They haven't had a Blue Governor since '89."

"Ooh," Hank says. "Big Daddy, you've done your research. Very cute."

Big Daddy smirks. "Between silly games, I do enjoy surfing Wikipedia."

Kim leans in. "She will, we can help with that. Firstly, if exposed — Big Daddy has to make a decision. What do you think he'll pick?"

Big Daddy and Hank consider and then…

"Governor's race," Hank says noncommittally.

"Hench Co. and BP," Big Daddy frowns.

The two stare at each other. Hank sucks on his teeth. "He _does _want to be President eventually."

Kim pushes her cheek into a waiting hand and smiles from ear to ear, cheeks glowing with excitement. "We need to expose Hench as the CEO of BP — and we need him unseated from both mega-corporations regardless of outcome. But we also want him to lose the Primary which is coming up in a month."

Silence falls throughout the room, the hologram fading and retracting into the remote.

"That's a big ask, Kim," Big Daddy says. "Ordinarily, we should just pick one of those."

"Or just kill him," Hank slips in.

"No," Kim waves a hand at that. "If we kill Hench and it gets connected to _me_ — "

" — so much for nonviolent direct action," Hank rolls his eyes. "Which you've been great with, Miss Mafia Kingpin."

Kim pulls both heels off the table, instead throwing her elbows over the edge, to stare Hank down. "We don't kill Hench. I don't like killing. I had to do it in Yamanouchi — "

" — careful, your personal problems are resurfacing," Hank taunts.

Kim hesitates. "True. Anyways — my goal is to do this grassroots…"

"Grassroots is slow," Big Daddy quips. Kim gives him a look which makes Big Daddy's beady eyes momentarily widen. "Trust me, Kimberly — I have tried. Topic for a different day."

" — well," Kim bites her lip. "We need to do something. Even if it's just one victory against the two, that's fine. But we have one month — less now really — to make something happen, and we are not leaving this room until we come up with a good plan."

Hank crosses his arms and for the first time that day, sizes Kim up with a smile.

"You're growing into your new role quite well," he says.

Kim winces. Being a better Big "Big" Daddy than a Kim Possible isn't necessarily what she wanted out of this arrangement, she somehow misled herself into thinking that this opportunity at the Bermuda Triangle was the direct path to getting back to her roots, just with a different moral alignment.

But she can't deny that Hank is right.

* * *

Kim can't keep her eyes off Amelia — it's Kim's fault, really. Kim set this up and she knew from the start that Amelia, the girl she has a crush on from group, would be at this. She just didn't expect it to be so distracting.

Kim's voice keeps trailing off, and she looks so stupid. It makes her hyper aware of the fact that she is definitely the youngest person in the room, even if just by a year or two, even if she wears the both cute and professional blazer, blouse, and skirt combo Hank bought for her.

**Foster City Community College: Foster City, California  
March 12, 2008: 3:38PM**

It's a student activist meeting Kim was able to wedge herself into as a guest speaker, though Kim can tell right off the bat that once she starts talking BP and Jack Hench that the organizers were not anticipating a campaign offer like this. That also makes Kim feel really stupid — what if they turn her down?

Well, that _would_ be okay, Kim's actual target audience is supposed to be Nevadan students. But somehow, for whatever reason, the student organizers agree to help her in this super ambitious plan. She talks through some of the details, noticing Amelia linger in the auditorium, and Kim definitely picks up on Amelia's nervous energy.

Is she making Amelia nervous? Again — super distracting. Tongue tied and stuff like that. Fortunately, Kim finds a good note to leave on and walks over to Amelia. "Hey," Kim says weakly.

"Hi," Amelia frowns, both hands clutching just one strap on her backpack. "Kim, I wanted to ask you something…"

Kim shrugs. For some reason, a question from Amelia feels like it's going to sting.

"_Why are you here_?"

Kim gulps. Yep, that hurts.

"It's going to be really expensive getting us over to Reno," Amelia slips some hair behind her ear; it's one of her tells that she's anxious. "And I thought you had no money. You keep coming in to group, Kim, and the more you tell us about your life… like how you actually live in San Francisco… I mean — are you taking care of yourself?"

Kim blinks. "What?"

"Well, you — um, have all this money but don't seem to be using any of it on yourself?"

"It's not my money," Kim says flatly. "It's… complicated."

Amelia doesn't say anything, just sort of looks at Kim expectantly like Kim is supposed to tell the truth. But obviously Kim can't tell the truth, and now she is realizing that her life isn't really set-up for her to allow in friends.

A hand grips Kim by the shoulder, and Kim knows by the way the palm presses to her back, fingers arched like talons, that it's Hank. "Sorry, miss," Hank says listlessly. "But I need to speak to Miss Possible in private."

Kim frowns and looks back to Amelia. "I'll… um… see you at group?"

Amelia shrugs and looks down to her feet. "Sure, whatever."

…

"So she's cute…" Hank cackles under his breath, walking Kim down a hallway in the school, searching for a more private space to have a one-on-one at.

"Yeah," Kim shrugs. "So not happening though…"

"Y'know, it read to me that way too," Hank pivots on his heel. "Oh, don't look so down in the dumps, Possible. One day women will be throwing themselves at you and — "

"Stop," Kim groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "By the way, who told you to dress like that? You look ridiculous."

"What — this?" Hank gestures at an outfit he surely thought was some kind of winner. Tan suit, no tie, pastel pink ankle-length socks, sunglasses perched above the brow, and tan skin. His arms crook deep into his pockets, though his elbows point far past his back. "I got some fashion tips from my friend on the Obama campaign — oh, don't raise an eyebrow like that at me, missy. You were thinking I'd have friends on the McCain team!"

Kim looks off to the side awkwardly. "Um… well, okay, yeah, I did."

Hank shakes his head like an irate grandmother. "Tsk tsk. Anyways, I just want to look the part while you're out here pretending to be a community organizer." Gah, he says that like he thinks Kim believes that, too.

Fortunately, Hank misses the faux pas and continues, "I do have a similar line of questioning that your friend has: why are we here again? I'm not a big fan of putting our money into bussing people to Reno as an _activist opportunity_."

"Well," Kim bites her lip. "You already know why, don't you?"

"Oh wow, so it really was because of that girl?" Hank laughs. "Gotta say, didn't peg you as a piner, Possible."

"Oh, I pine," Kim jokes, though it doesn't play like she wants it to. It just makes her feel like a loser.

"Clearly," Hank rolls his eyes, and brings both hands to Kim's biceps. He stares at her very intently. "Listen, Kim. If… if we can just be honest for a second, I'm… concerned. We don't have to be bussing people."

Kim wants to break free from Hank's touch, it makes her uncomfortable, but she also doesn't want it to get weird. "Well, I know but — I just — I wanted to try involving someone close to me… I know it's an expense, but we can eat it, right? Um, which reminds me I wanted to ask if you could make the Google Form for hotel room requests?"

Hank's eyebrows shoot up so high they almost hit his hairline. (Which isn't an easy task for him nowadays.) "Oh, oh no, hotels? Gah, Kim, you — you — Kim, you _aren't_ a grassroots leader, remember?"

Kim dips back. "Well, I am right now, so I thought…"

"No!" he takes her by the cheek. "No no no no… Kim, we're — we're dark money, we're — a fucking mafia, you can't — " He takes a second and runs his hand over his head and springs back with a smile. "You can _play_ grassroots, but you can't_ be_ grassroots."

Kim pulls back, scratching the nape of her neck nervously. "B-but…"

"Remember your plan, Kim?" Hank suggests, clapping his hands together with each syllable. "You — are — going — to — shift."

Shift. Right. When things get good, Kim shifts and starts to do mean things. It's been her pitch for a while now, it's what got Hank and Big Daddy to trust her to begin with.

"I'm not going to say that you aren't being thoughtful, or — grassroot-ly," Hank says, trying to be sweet. "But I'm worried you are going to fall too in love with _this_ and not end up doing anything you set out for."

Would that be so bad though? Kim looks away, knowing Hank always could guess that's what she'll say, and knows it won't help. It works against her if anything.

Kim runs her hands together, stretching her arms high in the air. "Can we play it by ear? Step by step, ya know. Let's make sure this action goes well — that's the priority."

Hank appears to want to protest that, but eventually comes over into being satisfied with the answer. "Fine, but we're doing motels, we can't hire a driver so we'll just use Rhino." He crosses his arms in deep thought. "And you need to go to Reno solo so you can get the rest of the pieces together while I guess I act as your point person?"

It amazes Kim sometimes how quickly Hank shifts positions when it would help him. It's so… pragmatic. She respects it, because she's never been that way.

She wonders if Hank picked that up from Shego, or if it was vice versa, or if both were just born that way. Either way, it's something Kim needs to learn because she knows this path is going to force her to eventually make a decision…

...on who exactly the Kim Possible Project is even supposed to serve.

* * *

"Hello, Ms. Giunchigiliani."

"Mm, Hank Perkins. You're one of Possible's people, are you not?"

"Ah, someone did their research."

**Chris Giunchigliani's Home: Las Vegas, Nevada  
March 16, 2008: 10:42AM**

Hank lays his briefcase along his lap, eying Chris G carefully. "Yes, as you could guess I am here to make you an offer."

Chris G raises a hand in protest. "I'll have none of it — I don't want anything to do with Kim Possible, and I don't want people on my campaign with special interests."

Hank's eyebrow twitches. Always so difficult, these people. "Forgive my coyness — I should have realized you'd see past our little curtain."

The gubernatorial candidate rolls her eyes. "It's pretty obvious — Big Daddy has had his eye on stopping Hench for some time — sources tell me there's something connecting Kim Possible to Big Daddy, and I can only assume you're still tied to them over there. You want to stop Hench, and what — keep him as your competitor? Stay out of our politics."

That was clearly rehearsed. Though it worries Hank that somehow word has gotten out about their scheme, he can't let that damage the messaging. "Oh come off it," Hank snaps, figuring being direct will do more for him here. "You know he's only gunning for Governor to set-up a Presidential campaign, and you must know how he is already connected with Global Justice."

Chris G frowns and turns away. "I'm here for Nevadans."

Hank smirks, this is his in. "You are — but you only have 33.1% of the vote, with only nine days to flip that into a majority. Be realistic here, you need help."

Chris G drums her fingers against her knees, mouth agape in thought. "I… suppose… what exactly are you offering?"

Hank raises his eyebrow and lifts the TV remote — this was all coordinated and timed out so that he could do this. He clicks the button and on the screen is Jack Hench at a podium. Paler than usual, likely from the lack of spray-on. Slicked back hair not gelled down correctly, and suit a little ruffled. Hank grins and looks to Chris G, who stares back in disappointment.

"You did something violent, didn't you?" Chris G asks.

Hank wags his finger, then gestures to the screen. Chris G snorts and looks on.

"_It has come to my attention_," Jack Hench frowns. "_That I have made a grave mistake allying myself with big oil companies. I have not been the most forward as of late, but in addition to Hench Co., I am also… the CEO of BP."_

Chris G's eyes widen and she looks to Hank. "How did…"

"Sh," Hank snickers.

"_Let's set the record straight — I am stepping down from BP effective immediately. I can no longer participate in the destruction of the planet. I accept the consequences of my actions and hope to do better for the American peop— for Nevadans. I ask that you forgive me for _— "

"Shut it off."

Hank does so.

Chris G takes a moment to squeeze the bridge of her nose, forehead wrinkled. "What — he's destroying himself. How are people going to trust him?"

Hank grins. "We're calling it the Reynolds Pamphlet Redux."

"I don't care what you call it," Chris snaps. "I want to know — what — _what did you do_?"

Hank wags his finger. "Ah-ah-ah. Don't ask questions you don't want answers to. Know that beyond some trespassing, it was perfectly legal — and nothing Hench will ever admit to the press. This conference is giving you a surge of momentum — hire Kim Possible to lead your youth grassroots leadership — something you haven't had at all… and we'll have a deal."

Chris G crosses her arms and looks off to the side. Hank already knows she has no choice but to say yes. Already, his mind runs through the next few days.

"She's bringing a team with her?" Chris G asks, though she already knows the answers.

"Yes, we'll pay for it, we just — ah — need to find a way to slip our money into your budget," Hank says, kicking his shoe up to his chair to retie the laces. "Not anything I'm unfamiliar with. You in?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not if you want to win,"

* * *

_The Night Before_

* * *

The moment Jack Hench waltzes into his office, a high-pressured jet of smoke slams him in the face, blurring his vision. He feels his pupils contract, his eyes dry and crackle. Light-headed, he nearly trips over himself.

Some kind of hallucinogen. Shit, and he picked a bad day not to pack a gun — something about needing to be super anti-gun after the fiasco last fall.

When his hand passes his eyes, he sees — damn, he must be losing his mind. It looks like a freakin' jungle in here. Leaves rustle and flap back and forth, vines and tree trunks adorning his walls that are supposed to be decorated by paintings. What the Hell happened in here?

**Hench Co: Las Vegas, Nevada  
March 15, 2008: 11:16PM**

Hench stumbles forward, the rustling getting louder and louder, so loud he needs to block his ears. Anymore and his eardrums will puncture. But nothing happens. He tries to focus, tries to regain his footing, and sees two things of interest: a plastic sheen on the leaves, and a dark figure leaning up against his desk at the end of the overlong hallway.

It's fake trees, some kind of props, and he begins to notice hands behind the ensemble of fake brush manipulating it all. He thinks he is getting a handle on it, but then red, orange, and yellow tissue paper streamers sputter out between the gaps in the trees. The streamers roll up and down the brush, quickly catching as more and more streamers appear. Like fire.

Hench starts to sweat — his office is getting hotter. Really hot. He loosens his tie, face caked in so much sweat he's afraid the front layer will peel off under the weight. He unbuttons his collar, crawling now to make his way across the floor.

The fluorescents overhead suddenly blare, illuminating him in a blinding white. He braces himself, and hears smoke machines kicking up. He follows the low hum of the machines and sees dark smoke billow out over the lights. At first it's not much, but quickly — fuck, it must be a lot of smoke machines, the smoke gets dense. So dense and thick that not even the fluorescent can make it through.

Hench can't see, he reaches out and drags himself across the floor, whole body damp with sweat. It's so hot. It feels like it's two hundred degrees. He might just die here, as the red and orange streamers build. They slap against his blazer, and this doesn't feel like performance art anymore. He sheds the coat and tries to make his way forward.

The dark figure at his desk holds out an arm, he thinks he sees a microphone. They speak and a dark, oily voice bellows from speakers installed above. "_This is your legacy, Jack._"

Jack runs his whole arm against his forehead as two kids scramble before him, holding a painting. It looks familiar, ah, yes, he's fond of this one — but then he realizes it's a painting of oil flooding into the Artic, drowning everything in sight, an oil platform looming off in the distance.

More students pass by him in a cycle, all holding out different paintings. The flooding of a city, the burning of the rainforest, the endless smoke consuming the sky, making it all seem so finite. Lastly, a portrait of himself.

Hench reaches out to touch the oil on canvas — then flinches as black tar pours down the portrait. He jerks his hand back and things shift, so much happening at once that his eyes sting. The flaming arches gather around the dark figure, a warm backlight from below costing a soft orange glow to her face.

Kim Possible.

Fucking Christ.

He should have known — Betty was wrong, Kim needs to die — needs to fail.

"_Millions die because of climate change, Jack,_" Kim says, voice still booming from those loudspeakers. "_After I tell them who you really are _—_ they're going to think of our face before they pass on. Is that your legacy?_"

No, she's wrong, this whole climate hooey isn't real, he knows that the people who tell him it is are liars, liars you just want his wealth. Well — well — they can't have it! They can't —

"_The numbers are there,"_ Kim drawls, lowering the microphone, looking down at Jack with such disdain. The streamers get closer to them and Jack feels so hot, he wonders how Kim stands it. "_Science is real."_

Kim reaches into her jacket and pulls out a dollar bill. Holds it high. Somehow, it catches flame from one of the streamers and she drops it. It's ash before it hits the floor. But Kim doesn't look away from Hench.

"_They're watching you, Jack. You'll lie yourself into office and destroy the planet — but the people will figure it out. They'll do far worse to you_."

It's so hot, Hench fears his blood might boil holes into his skin, that his bones may melt into mush, that his brain will burst apart at the seams and he'll die where he lays now. He can't take it, he can't fucking take this heat. He can't die like this, he looks to Kim and thinks that this has to be a hallucination. No one can do this to Jack Hench and get away with it, it's just not possible.

Kim snaps her fingers and the streamers swarm him, batter him. Hotter, can't breath. The paintings flicker past him again, so fast, so rapidly, but he sees all of it. The death and destruction, the climate refugees in the indigineous countries of the planet. He feels them watching him, he feels his face melting away. He screams and pounds the floor, but it just hurts more.

A hand waits for him among the chaos and he snags it. The leather glove reels him in and he falls to his knees: the heat, the light, the fire, the foliage, all gone. Just dark and cold and Kim Possible holding him. Hench runs a hand through his hair, breaking the hardened gel. "What?! Where did — what did I — " he looks to Kim in her sleek black suit, staring at him half-lidded eyes.

"Must be your conscience," Kim shrugs, gesturing to the now empty room.

Hench grinds his teeth together, hobbling across the room, rummaging through his desk and finding — yes — his revolver. He points it at Kim Possible's head, ready to blow her to bits. She doesn't react, so he pushes it against her temple, grimacing.

"You go back to Big Daddy and tell him I'll never give up Hench Co. — or — or — "

"Just give up BP," Kim says with no commitment. "Admit to the public what you did and swear off your ownership of them."

Those faces roll past his eyes again. He smacks himself and tries to focus on Kim, but dark as his mind goes he can't do it — he can't bury himself in that place where he can get away with killing a — a —

Hench falls to his knees again, lets the gun hit the floor. He looks up at Kim Possible, remarking at how young she is, yet how cold and distant her eyes are. "You're…" he stutters. "...the new Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson."

Kim's resulting grin could share off a shark. It makes Hench touch his throat to protect it. His pulse rams into his thumb with anguish. He still feels like he's dying.

"Give up BP," Kim hisses and turns on her heels, whistling as she walks down the lonely corridor.

* * *

_Back to Present Day_

* * *

"I don't know… I think I need to do my research before I tell you that."

Devastating, the worst kind of thing Kim has heard today. Not the obvious lie about needing to go because they are on a conference call, not the totally out there "_Not Interested_," it's this. This stings the hardest.

Kim takes in a deep breath, sizing up this middle aged Armenian man, sensing the deeply encrusted apathy he must have for Nevada.

**Nonotuck Street: Las Vegas, Nevada  
March 21, 2008: 2:24PM**

Kim is running point on this canvas operation, one that has recruited all of her activists from Foster City, Reno, and Vegas. After a while Kim starts to forget that she even set this whole thing up, she's just so exhausted, She also feels small (as usual) walking around in jeans and a t-shirt. Everyone is taller than her, but they all listen to her and do what she says.

Kim has to learn a lot of things on the fly, like cutting turf and writing scripts. She's fortunate to get some guidance from some of the students on how to run a canvas through the PDI app, but still — it's just so fucking hard.

Like this Armenian guy.

"Um, well I think that when you pull the frame back," Kim says, miming removing a window from its frame. "You would know that this election is a lot bigger than the two of us — and Jack Hench has given us way too many red flags. He can't sit in the governor's chair."

"Why?" the man says abruptly.

Kim sighs. "He runs a villain tech company!"

"So?" the man shakes his head. "He's trying to use those resources for good now — the way I see it, this Hench guy can do a lot more good for Nevada than Chris G. Hell, saying it out loud is actually making me want to vote for him so thanks for that."

Kim's jaw nearly drops. She fucked this door up. She needs to go into damage control, but he beats her to it. "Why Chris G? Is there anything she is doing that's better than Hench?"

Kim gets tongue tied — she doesn't know. She's here to stop Hench, and when she takes the walk of shame through the man's lawn, she recognizes that she made a huge mistake even coming here. She wanted to helicopter in and win this, but it's not as easy as she thought.

Kim sits on the curb and pulls out her tupperware to eat a tofurky sandwich, but is promptly interrupted.

"Break isn't 'til 3pm, champ," Hank laughs, squeezing in besides her, looking at her sandwich like she's a real plebeian. "I jest, you alright?"

"My numbers suck," Kim frowns.

"Yeah," Hank sighs wistfully, looking out at the suburbs around them. "I noticed — hence me being here. Team is doing okay though. Rhino has ten votes, Mugsy got nine, Vinny has — fifteen — somehow, I think he's fudging his numbers though…"

"...I have none…" Kim admits.

Hank nods gently. "Yes, you have none. You're working yourself to the bone and left no room to actually get good at this."

Kim shakes her head. "Mugsy, Vinny, and Rhino have no place being top canvassers."

Hank shrugs. "Don't worry about them — my numbers are good too, by the way, just saying — you're a scrawny trans girl with major depression and anxiety problems."

"Yeah but they don't know that."

"They can sense it," Hank rubs his chin. "You have stubble today, by the way. Did you remember to shave this morning?"

Kim wishes she could just die. "No… um…. S-s-sorry…"

Hank's eyebrows shoot way high. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Y-y-you're m-mad at me…"

"No, no, sh sh…" Hank pulls Kim in, gently taking her hand. "I'm uncomfortable with this dynamic, you being my boss, but I care about you, Kim. You're… you're kinda like a daughter to me."

Kim sniffs. Now she's really gonna start crying. She doesn't know if it's because she's happy or sad, she just feels overwhelmed and her sweaty face is hot with embarrassment.

"Th-th-thanks…" Kim keeps her eyes on the pavement; she's so dysfunctional.

Hank pats her on the back, and she sees his shadow lift up. "Eyes up, kiddo. Your new partner is coming around the corner."

"...partner?" Kim says dimly, and sees Amelia, who also seems like a fish out of water. "Oh, we're going together? Won't two of us at the door freak people out?"

"It's not that uncommon," Hank shrugs. "Uh, based on my research. Just shadow her for a bit, support her, and just come back to me with one vote. Okay?"

"Alright, _Dad_," Kim fights hard to make a joke.

"Oh, don't you start with me, just do your job, okay?"

Kim sucks it up; she doesn't like being told what to do when she's supposed to be in charge, but she also knows that Hank doesn't do it in bad faith.

So she gives the rest of the day her best shot.

…

Pushback moments — you get three before it's time to walk, maybe four if you got something good. But Kim never has anything 'good' so she's always doing three — sometimes two — sometimes one — something… nothing.

They have a structure — acknowledge the voter, lay down the track for common ground between you, tell them an undeniable truth, and ask for their support again.

"I need to do more research." Time for pushback #1.

Kim revs up and tries for a very pointblank, "When?" Dammit, that isn't the structure.

The voter, not used to confrontation, blinks. "Excuse me? Um, I don't know, when I find time."

"The election is in a few days," Kim frowns, gesturing at the darkening sky. Amelia has gone home by now, and Kim knows that Amelia probably leaked to Hank where she is. Any minute now the carpool will show up to take her back to the hotel. But she needs this vote. "We're running out of time — I need you to listen to me. I'm telling the truth!"

The voter noticeably reaches up to scratch his head.

"I'm trying to tell you that Jack Hench is only in it for himself — that's why he waited until now to tell us about the BP thing," Kim explains. "He's using us."

The voter turns away. Kim recognizes this as an obvious moment where she needs to stop talking — she hates these silences. Immediately, a backlog of the conversation so far turns over and over in her mind's eye, screaming at her to fix it and get better.

"Well — he's a businessman! He's been pretty successful his whole life, right?"

Kim frowns, taking a second to prepare her next assault. "He's a pretty good CEO — in terms of making money. Most of his staff at Hench Co. are minimum wage, if that. He's union busting, He's not what Nevada needs — we've had Republican governors for so long, we need change. We need a progressive and that's — "

Fuck. She skipped the acknowledgement, went into the power fact, and finished with the common ground. As a result, she can tell the guy spaced out while she was talking, mentally preparing for the next thing he wants to say.

"Hench has more of the vote anyways — why should I even change my mind?" the voter snaps.

Kim winces, that one stings. She closes her eyes and tries to think.

"...I hear that you're discouraged by the lead Hench has held for a long time," Kim says, trying to emulate what the training guides want her to say. "But… sorry, I'm really struggling." She opens her eyes and shakes her head, this is so hard.

Then the voter says something not expected. "S'alright."

Kim looks at him and sees someone else entirely new. She feels hope and tries again. "I think we all feel uncomfortable now, right? You're not used to being put on the spot, and I'm not used to — any of this, I've never canvassed before and it's nerve-wracking."

Kim's eyes widen and for a moment, she considers ending it right then and there. But she knows there's more to be said. She has him right here — just finish it.

"I almost worked for Jack Hench," Kim admits, looking away, a little embarrassed. "You know I'm Kim Possible, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when I nearly got arrested last year for what happened at the Bermuda Triangle — you've seen the tabloids, right? — things looked pretty bad for me, and there was a time where I was considering working for Hench. We had a meeting and everything, he said some things that were kinda gross — but at the time it all sounded appealing."

Kim checks the voter's expression and they are still listening — for some reason. "My first job was to support Chris G earlier last year — and in her campaign…" She reaches deep down and tries to remember how she felt when she was researching Chris back then. "...I saw a teacher who wants to change things and establish common sense gun reform, not because it's a talking point but because she wants it."

Kim could go on longer, she could explain how she did bad things to support Chris G back then, and now she just wants to do the woman right — but feels in her chest that it's time to move forward. "I'm asking you again — and if you say no, I really will leave you alone, I appreciate your time — Chris G needs as many people as possible to change their minds in the next few days, and I need you standing with us. Can I count on you?"

"Yeah — I — I think you got me. I'm in for Chris G."

Acknowledgement, Common Ground, Power Fact, Strong Ask.

Kim nearly double takes, and ends up screwing up the rest of the conversation. She's supposed to use the PDI app to tell the voter where his polling place is — and then make sure he has a plan on how to get there. But since she has never gotten this far in the process, she stumbles her way through it. All of her nerves go haywire and she walks pack to the street with a beet red complexion.

It gets worse when she sees the car waiting for her. Hesitantly, she climbs into the backseat. Expecting to be with her goons, she opens her mouth to explain what she was — oh shit, no, she's with Chris G.

Kim looks to the front and sees the back of Hank's head.

"Brevity, Possible," Hank chimes. "Well done — but try to make that whole thing into a tight five, okay?"

"Hank!" Chris G chides. She shakes her head and looks back to Kim. "I heard you've been having a rough day."

"Yes," Kim squeaks. She feels so stupid next to Chris G. She's supposed to look cool, in her sleek suits, but she looks like a dumb kid in her jeans and t-shirt. She scratches her cheek and feels even more stubble. It's getting really bad. She looks back to Chris G. "S-s-sorry, I — I — "

Dammit, Possible! Where's the badass Kim that yelled at Jack Hench the other night? Or the one who scares the living daylights out of that stupid Big Pharma guy at the beginning of all this? What changed?!

She has all these big ideas on what she wants to do to take care of the planet — but it reduces to mush so often. Her knees pinch inward and she just feels like a child.

"I wanted to ask if you could speak at my rally tomorrow," Chris G says. "My campaign has been struggling with getting celebrity endorsements… it seems like you have problems with public speaking though?"

Kim swallows. "Sometimes. Um, if I can rehearse it… I think I could be good…" She doesn't look at Chris, she looks at the carseat.

"Hey," Chris G whispers and leans in, wrapping her arms around Kim. "You're alright — it's okay."

Kim sniffles, Chris G's arms are so warm. She doesn't want the woman to let go. Really, she wants her to hold Kim until she can make it back to Middleton so her own mom can hold her like that. But she can't go home — because if her theory about Ron being able to mesh with her aura when she's in familiar places is true… it's not safe in Middleton. Nothing with her parents is.

It's just this now.

Kim looks back up to Chris G. "Thank you for giving me this."

* * *

When Chris G wins the election, she stands starstruck in the middle of a local restaurant, surrounded by supporters, eyes glued to the television.

**SNS Diner: Las Vegas, Nevada  
March 25, 2008: 8:43PM**

Kim wants to go over and celebrate with her, but also gets a little nervous with all the cameras already in the room, plus the gaggles of Chris G supporters freaking out at this major victory. So she sips her soda.

Everyone else at her table gets to drink booze — Rhino, Mugsy, Vinny, Hank, and — well, Nong Man was but he wandered off to schmooze with some people. Kim tries to make eye contact with the dude to call him back to their table, but he ignores her and schmoozes away. He's talking to some brunette that honestly kinda looks familiar, but Kim doesn't want to gape any longer.

It's just something about having Nong Man around makes her feel… valid.

Though on the same token — his reluctance to sit with her also makes her feel like she's at the little kids' table. Though she might be the only actual child, Mugsy, Vinny, and Rhino are both childish enough.

"'Ey KP," Rhino nudges her shoulder. "Want some of this? It's pretty relaxing."

Kim's eyes widen — is he offering her alcohol? She doesn't really want to drink, but it might make her feel a little bit better about having a kiddie bracelet on.

"Whoa there, sailor," Hank chuckles. "Rhino's drinking apple juice, don't get excited."

Kim raises an eyebrow and looks to Rhino. "What — apple juice?"

"Yeah, it's good."

"But you were making a big deal out of it."

"Ha ha!" Vinny slobbers, punching Rhino in the back. "Dis guy ova heah always makin' a big deal out o' everyfin'."

"Um…" Kim bites her lip. "Vinny, I think you've had a little too much to drink."

Vinny gasps and raises his drink high into the air. "Kiddo, Imma drinkin' apple juice too, ya fuckin' palooka."

"Get ya mind out o' da guttah, kid," Mugsy says sagely, sipping away at his massive glass of water. "S'actually ten shots of vodka."

Kim looks to Hank for help; she isn't sure why, she just feels really out of place.

Hank presses his cheek into his hand, sliding his empty glass to the side. Kim carefully notes that it doesn't look like anything was in the glass to begin with.

"So Big "Big" Daddy…" Hank says, pressing his lips together with delight. "We nixed Jack Hench's dreams of running for office, and according to your theory he won't be able to weasel back into BP after everything… so what's next?"

Ah, the existential question.

"I don't know," Kim admits. "I mean… if we get rid of Hench completely — "

Mugsy and Vinny both punch their open palm.

" — not like that," Kim says. "Like stop Hench Co. next — we could gain more notoriety in the villain's community… Hank, do you know how the other groups feel about us right now?"

Hank shrugs. "I don't think anyone really _gets it_ yet… Hell, I don't either but we've found a lot of success in just following your instructions. Targeting those people, those naysayers, might help?"

Kim frowns. The problem with all of this — is that her Number One Target — is a secret to most. No one knows about Yamanouchi.

"Hey, gang," Nong Man's warm voice announces from Kim's left. "I wanna introduce you to a pretty lady I know at least one of you is acquainted with."

Kim turns and —

— it's Betty Director, oh shit oh shit oh shit.

The woman seats herself between Mugsy and Vinny, momentarily flashing a disgruntled expression at the two before looking to Kim with a cutting grin. She just seems so fucking _amused_ with everything. "Congratulations, Kimberly — "

" — it's just Kim," Kim interrupts.

" — whatever," Betty shakes her head with a mean smirk. "I'm disappointed in Hench, and that means you finally did something good with… whatever this is." Lazily, she gestures at Kim's gallery of goons.

Kim bites her lip and tries to look away. She knows. Betty knows that the guy she had dead to rights back at Drakken's old hideout was her. It's in that piercing gaze of hers.

Hank leans in carefully. "Perhaps I should facilitate this — "

"You might be judging me," Kim interrupts. "But I would never do to my people what you let happen to Will."

Betty's grin cuts deeper into her cheek. "Yeah? Ha, for these louts?"

"Whoa," Nong Man raises an eyebrow. "I'm catching the vibe you two don't like each other very much. Considering I hate your fucking guts, Betty, but as you've noticed, I've been quite charming this eve as have you. What's the dealio, huh?"

Betty rolls her eyes. "I'm inviting you all to a gala. Global Justice is putting on a fundraiser — it was supposed to be for Hench but we'll have to pick something else. Maybe some bullshit cancer charity, I don't know."

"That's cynical," Kim frowns. She senses her heat picking up in pace, and feels sort of proud for actually standing up for herself. "Maybe you should fundraise for something meaningful?"

"Ooh," Betty leans back with crossed arms. "You gonna break into my bedroom tonight and give me a fever dream about why I should back Greenpeace or whatever the fuck? You're going to find when clashing with _me_, Kimberly — " Wow, Betty just won't let that Kimberly thing go. " — that I'm not nearly as easy of a mark."

Kim doesn't know what to say to that.

"Anyways, I should congratulate Chris G for winning," Betty gets up, feigning looking at her watch. "I sent an invite to your home, Kimberly, but I guess you aren't going back to Middleton, anymore? So it's at your apartment — or rather, _Shego's _apartment."

Ouch.

Betty turns on her heel, then twists back. "Oh my God, I almost forgot — I wanted to make a joke about your Towtruck Stanson moniker — but it slipped my mind. When you play this conversation back, feel free to mix that in."

She walks off.

"Wow, what a fuckin' cunt," Nong Man shakes his head, looking to Kim. Off of the silence, he plasters his face with a goofy grin. "So… can I go with you as your date, KP?"

Rhino pulls Kim in, leaning his big head on top her. "Nah, I'm gonna be KP's date."

Hank folds a finger across his mouth. "I'll be the back-up date if you both bail!"

Kim checks everyone's expression. "Wait — no, we're obviously not going…"

Hank wags his finger at her. "No no, we need to kick Betty's fucking ass now. That was incredibly rude."

"Here here!" all the men cheer, clashing their drinks. Kim just sits there stunned.

"B-b-because it's strategic?" Kim tries to suss it out. "I don't get it — I don't have a plan — "

"We're doing it — " Hank says very slowly. "Because she was really fucking nasty to you right there, and you're our friend. We're supporting you. Unless you'd rather hit someone else."

Kim closes her eyes. It's definitely a trap, but Kim has gone into pretty much every conflict in her life knowing it was a trap. So that isn't new… and Betty is at the top of her hit list.

Kim grins, and takes a swig of soda. "Let's infiltrate."


	10. Ron Alone

For whatever reason, the Global Justice Gala hangs in Kim's mind. Maybe because she's nervous about being in that crowd of people again, maybe because it's a trap to expose her as the villain she feels like she is sort of becoming, she doesn't really know. Hank doesn't seem to know either, which is unusual.

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 2, 2008: 1:05PM**

It seems important though. Like whatever happens at the Gala will illustrate what Kim needs to work on next. Clearly, there has been some kind of acknowledgement from Betty that Kim is at least a real threat. That worries Kim, but Hank tells her it's a good thing.

Kim doesn't know how to feel about that, so Hank tells her to lay low this week and kick up some projects, find a way to get the Bermuda Triangle more money while they cook up the next big push.

It's hard getting funding by the way — Kim hates stealing. Coordinating these bank robberies just feels really bad. Working out the logistics for fake businesses to launder money also feels really bad. She doesn't necessarily feel bad about the theft — she just knows she's playing it close to the chest.

So among the string of robberies attacking the white collar crowd, Kim sets up a little personal mission just for her. She tells Aviarius he needs to do whatever it takes to make that staff that can steal superpowers again.

Apparently that means going to Go City to steal this very specific gem stone? Like if you shoot a laser through the gem, it like — does all the crazy shit it needs to do to steal powers. Sounds like pseudo-science to Kim, but whatever.

If that is the only way to go, it has to be that then. Even though hitting up Go City is such a bad idea. Like the worst idea. But it's okay — it makes Kim's skin crawl to admit it… but Aviairius is expendable.

After Aviarius is shipped out, Hank confronts Kim in her office.

"Hi, saw the flight you just booked for Aviarius, may I make a suggestion?" Hank asks, sliding a bony hip onto Kim's desk. "Monitor him."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Totally unethical."

"Um…" Hank gestures at the room with the drama of a thespian in a particularly juicy role, pointing out without words that this whole facility was paid for through unethical activities.

Kim bows her head, fingers drumming her elbows. "Fair. How though?"

Hank smiles and leans over the desk, reaching to Kim's computer and turning it on. He navigates through menus like it's his own, and ultimately lands on a grid of what looks to be surveillance footage. He winks at Kim, and with clicks on the keypad, manipulates one of the cameras. "You're looking at a live feed of drone footage across the country."

Kim blinks.

"Old project of ours," Hank drawls. "And we have a Go City feed. Installed it back when we were concerned about Shego."

Kim narrows her eyes; it's still weird that Shego is dead. "Are they… um…" She mimes shooting a gun. "...pow pow?"

"Pow pow? No," Hank stands upright and lets Kim take a gander at the controls. "We're not Global Justice after all…"

"Wait, do they — "

"To use Shego's words: _Da doy, Princess_," Hank cackles softly. "Don't worry, you're young."

"You're young too," Kim shoots back.

Hank raises an eyebrow. "Allow me to correct myself — you're green."

Kim resists the temptation to throw a tantrum at that — she's not _that_ green. Fiddling with the controls, she looks back up to Hank. "Thank you for showing me this."

"No worries — just be careful with that aura thing you're saying connect you and _him_," Hank says. "I'm sure a camera feed is enough for him to link to you. If you see him, shut it down. We can't risk him finding us here."

Kim gulps. "Yeah… can do."

Great.

* * *

Ron always wondered what it would be like to fly; even with his Mystical Monkey Power the best he could manage is hovering. But as of today — Ron knows what flying is like.

To paraphrase — it sucks.

It's like drowning. Up and down, up and down, sometimes side to side. When's it gonna end, man?

Depends on when he can take down Aviarius. Oh right — Ron is fighting Aviarius. He like stalked him all the way to Go City and stuff. Because he doesn't like 'im very much.

**Aviarius's Aerial Adventure of Annihilation: Go City, Illinois  
April 3, 2008: 3:58PM**

Aviarius is back and up to mischief in Go City, going through the motions of a team-up episode with Electronique. But Electronique gets trashed pretty much immediately — she's a bad villain, Ron doesn't get why she was such a problem last time. Which leaves him and Aviarius.

No Wade because he's busy at his job with Global Justice.

No Yori because she's — doing — something else? It's unclear. Girl doesn't communicate well at all… for whatever reason, Ron thinks it has something to do with Kim.

And no Rufus because he's dead.

...anyways, Aviarius is using his new flying whirligig invention to fly off in a panic but alas… which tee-bee-ache is generally okay to let happen, because Aviarius sucks. But — Aviarius worked for Kim. Aviarius was at Yamanouchi the night Hirotaka was murdered in a bloodbath, and Ron wouldn't be surprised if Kim needed to keep the goon on payroll due to limited resources. So reluctantly, Ron fires his grapple and latches it on to Aviairus' foot just before he is out of reach which leads to —

— yes —

— Aviarius' Aerial Adventure of Annihilation.

Hence Ron flying. If you want to call it that, and it's less sandbox RPG and more rail shooter if you catch my drift.

"Aviarius — it's really cool that you can fly but — " Ron makes a mistake and opens his mouth far too wide for someone moving this fast through open skies and his lips flap back and threaten to crunch his cheekbones.

"Nyeh heh heh horf horf ha! Did you really think you could defeat — me?! Aviarius! The greatest supervillain of all — " Aviarius himself chokes on the air and feels like a big stooge.

Taking down Aviarius does not prove to be a challenge though — in fact, it ends up being a textbook takedown of a flying villain. Touch the ground when possible, anchor them down, and throw them into something. Hoo-wee, what a day.

Ron hates to admit it — so he doesn't, he just thinks about it — but he's not a crimefighter because he wants to do the right thing. He used to think that he only did any of it to protect his ex-bestfriend, Kim Possible. But that was so Pre-Timeskip Seasons. Ron loved Kim — still loves her — which yeah, Ew City — and now wishes he went to Paris with her and kept her on the path to darkness. But that isn't Ron's problem anymore. He made his choices — the right choices, and whatever abomination Kim decided to become — he needs to stop her. Pronto. She's evil. She went Bombad Jedi sometime after the Post-Timeskip Season, and Ron? Well Ron's just doing great marinating in his little bottle episode.

And again, Aviairius has got intel. He has to. So Ron ties Aviairus down to the ground, perhaps a little too tightly, and with a little too much sadism. But it feels right, like this is what he should have been doing from sophomore year. Not trailblazing his ex-bestfriend.

See, Ron is a man of little talent. Sure — he cooks with the flourish of an Italian going "Muah!" and he makes kneeslappin' jokes — but it's very rare for Ron to actually be good at something. Or maybe it isn't, and Kim just made it harder for people to see. Always stuffing him away in her shadow… because she knew, he knows she knew, that they would need to kill each other one day. Ha, if only Kim could see him now.

"Please don't kill me," Aviarius whimpers as Ron holds him upright.

Ron grits his teeth. "You're the killer, not me."

"That wasn't me!" Aviarius spits. "I didn't — Kim told us what you did to her you psycho!"

Ron blanches, remembering London, remembering what his magic did to Kim, and how that makes him feel so dirty. How maybe he_ is_ the bad guy, and maybe people can't find out that Ron did that because it would ruin him forever…

Then Aviarius reaches towards his throat, miming a chokehold and Ron remembers how he almost killed Kim at the beginning of all this, his phantom fingers squeezing the life out of her. How she still has a scar across her throat even now; he's seen it on TV.

"She deserved it," Ron says fast, knowing that sounds feeble. He pulls the rope taut and Aviarius gasps as his body is forced to lurch forward.

"Shego wasn't that bad," Aviarius chokes out.

Ron blinks. Right. It's not — he — he did kill someone… he killed Shego, how could he forget? It's blurred… it's easy enough to paint it as an accident but really he wanted her dead for what she did to Kim, and then Kim had the nerve to speak back against Ron for how he saved her? Fucking conniving bitch… no, that's wrong. He shouldn't… he feels confused.

Ron bites his lip. This is a supervillain he's dealing with, he doesn't need to explain his whole code of morality to him. Aviarius isn't even close to being Ron's Joker so forget about that. He kneels down so that he can be eye level with the bird-themed goon and drops his voice down an octave. He knows that gravel scares people. "You just did a job for Kim right?"

Aviarius' jaw stays shut.

"Dude, I already know, and I'm not going to ask you anything that'll get you in trouble," Ron lets his arms fall and dangle between his legs. Pink crawls into his cheeks and he has to look away to collect himself. When he returns, his voice is squeakier than he wants — but he doesn't know else to say it without getting emotional. Because the heart of it is so embarrassing.

"I just want to know what working for Kim was like."

Aviarius' eyes widen and it's strange for the two to be here — in this moment — talking about that subject — so he looks away because it's easier. "Don't you know already?"

"No," Ron frowns. "You know her better than me probably. So please tell me."

"Um, okay. Uh. She's really quiet. Kinda spacey. She really only spoke up when someone was out of line. Like when that Greek dude tried to sell us some guns on the spot."

"Greek?" Ron shakes his head. "You're losing me, dude."

Aviarius sucks on his lip before dipping his head into shame. "She got pissed off — she doesn't like guns, but he talked her into it anyways. I heard a little bit of it, something about avoiding you."

Ron draws back. So Kim figured it out, that in these familiar places and feelings, Ron's aura is able to latch onto hers. It isn't conscious on his part or anything, just something that happens from time to time. He can remember that secondhand nervous energy from the night Kim launched her attack.

"Good," Ron coos. "Tell me more."

A deep voice from behind Ron speaks, "Son, we are going to have to place you under arrest."

"Ha — already taken care of, officer — " Ron chuckles earnestly and gets back up, clapping his hands together. "Just need a bit more time to interrogate this perp and — " He turns around. " — took a lot of hard work but I — oh. Hey Hego. Hi Wego. Mego? Hey. Um. Yeah," Ron shuffles to the side and presents Aviarius to them. "He's all yours?"

Hego grunts and swipes his nose. "I was actually referring to you. You're the one who's under arrest. I don't allow vigilantism in my city."

All of Team Go seems deathly serious — and organized — which is unlike them. The Wegos have already duplicated enough to form a full perimeter around the building, and Mego is as big as the building — his nose just poking over the lip of the roof.

"Um — sorry, I didn't get the memo," Ron starts to walk off. "I'll just see myself out — "

"Is that really all you have to say?" Hego sneers and throws up his blue glow.

Ron leans into a fighting stance and mirrors the glow with his own. If they want to play hard, he'll play hard. He doesn't care that Hego was kind to him in the months before this, he'll flatten his cocky ass into the ground.

"Not only do I not want vigilantes here," Hego explains. "I also don't want murderers, you dirty sister killer."

Ron's eyes widen and he puts two and two together.

"Hego, um — " Ron drops his hands to his sides. " — about your sister. I — um — "

"Save it. This isn't about you." Hego's voice is hindered by something, a strain of emotions that's difficult to face head on. Ron can't make eye contact, he stares at the ground. But then the ground rumbles under Ron' sneakers and he looks up to see the Hego about to punch his skull open — Ron just sort of sighs. Because he doesn't blame him at all for how he's feeling.

But that doesn't mean Ron's not going to take him down.

Except when he raises his arms to stop Hego's downswing, his glow retracts back into him like a dimming light. His arms suddenly feel like noodles, and they bend under Hego's might.

The concrete around Ron shatters, and he tumbles through the gap, falling into the building below.

* * *

Kim didn't expect her video feed to be so brutal — her heart stopped when Ron came into the picture and at some point she missed, her heartbeat got really fast and it hasn't slowed down since.

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 3, 2008: 2:03PM**

Kim wishes her drone had attack power, she feels so helpless watching two of the Mego clones hoist Ron's limp body into the air, dragging him so that knees run against the gravel beneath him. It's bizarre; Kim knows Ron is stronger than them so why doesn't he fight back?

Kim also identifies that Ron is bad, he's not the person she grew up with — nor is she herself for that matter… but Ron is in the way. Right now, he is being eliminated. Shouldn't she feel… elated?

No, she feels awful. She feels responsible. But she knows she isn't — wait, she needs to run the logic through.

Kim hired Aviairus → Ron is likely pursuing Aviarius to find out more about Kim. → Aviarius is a bad villain, and from Team Go Territory. Maybe he was only hired as a draw-in for a trap. → It's possible Ron sees this as revenge for killing Shego.

Is that… accurate? Is that how Ron thinks?

It's unclear. Kim watches Ron get beaten up by people she hardly knows, and feels like she's watching a stranger. Why is he just letting this happen? Kim knows what Ron can do, and this makes so little sense to her.

Kim clutches her head, She needs an advil or something. There's a knock at her door but she ignores them. She can't keep her eyes off this; she needs to know.

* * *

Getting beat up sucks. Getting beat up when you killed someone's sister and you don't have the heart to fight back — that is the worst kind of sucking.

See, Ron's no check-a-doey-halfway-there-kinda-guy. He's all or nothing. And right now — he's nothing.

**Some Arbitrary Building Hego Slammed Ron Into: Go City, Illinois  
April 3, 2008: 4:05PM**

A punch to the jaw, a punch against his fingees, one to the tummy, the hip, the knee, the nose — it's endless. Ron keeps falling back and tries throwing up a solid defense but he can't — because he killed someone by accident. Someone he thought was way stronger than him — and this is a man that Ron knows from experience is weaker than him.

So instead Ron bleeds and bruises and feels nothing (emotionally).

((He's still mortal and stuff.))

At some point, Hego throws him out a window; it doesn't matter. This stuff used to make him throw up but he just flies around like a ragdoll with a stupid expression — he bets the amusement park ride camera photo is splendifirous. Maybe he should pay the $10 to take it home.

Giant sized Mego grabs Ron and limply tosses him back in like an abusive pet owner. Ron tumbles across the floor and falls back into the onslaught of Hego's wrath.

Of course, Ron has already lost the fight and the blue titan damn well knows that. But he doesn't care because he's mad.

Uh oh. Are we seeing some symmetry here?

The ridge of Hego's knuckle cleaves into Ron's eye and — you guessed it — slashes right through. It draws blood — and somewhere — across the country, he hears Kim scream. He feels the wheels to her chair slide back and nearly tumble over.

Kim Possible. Always Kim Possible, always watching him, always pulling the strings and telling him what to do.

There's a spark. It fills Ron's lungs and his muscles tense. "Hey," he says gruffly.

Hego punches him anyways. Ron doesn't let it make him flinch this time. He stays perfectly still.

"Hey!" Ron says louder.

Hego's fist comes in to break Ron's jaw into chunks but this time — Ron's own fists cross over his chest and a rippling wave of Mystical Monkey Power whips up around him. There's a blast and Hego is haplessly thrown across the entire room. Just like that — easy.

He is losing his focus on Kim in her little office in San Francisco, but he hopes she enjoys the show.

Ron wipes the blood dripping from his nose and raises his right hand; he doesn't even need to look at his targets, they just roll right on over. Mego's the first to go — try as he might, Ron's magic compresses him down to the size of an ant and it's one swift chop that conks him out. His unconscious body crashes into the cement, head bouncing against the floor.

The Wegos try to separate like a school of scared fishies, but it's futile and the magic surges through, whirling them all into a tornado.

The Wegos batter against each other, vanishing one by one, until only two are left, and like Mego, they land on the floor in a deep sleep.

Hego's shoulders rise beyond the desk he had tumbled under. His breaths are like an oxen's. He runs. The same rumble shakes the floor under Ron but this time Ron is here. Regrettably — kind of.

Ron does take a sick delight in pulling a Bugs Bunny on Hego and merely stepping to the side to avoid the bull-like charge. Hego almost falls over from his failed lunge and when he turns back up to hit Ron — _slap! slap! _to the face.

Hego rubs his jaw and throws himself at Ron again — not really catching the hint that he doesn't stand a chance. Ron dodges it and this time grabs Hego, heaving the titan's own strength into a throw that could easily snap his neck and kill him.

As Ron goes through the motions of the throw, he feels Hego's glow pulsating within his own. This obscene super-strength that rivals his own — if he wants he can just take it in like a sponge. All of it — any power in the world could just be his — because he's kind of a God.

Is this why Kim broke up with him? Because deep down, beyond all the work she did to become as successful as she was — Ron has always been the stronger one. Ever since his first brush with Monkey Fist, Ron has been a God and it wasn't until the Lowardians that he started to let it show.

Is Kim jealous of him? Ron thinks so. He thinks she only became Big "Big" Daddy Brotherwhatever so she could possibly measure up to him. Yeah, yeah, that sounds right. But Kim is awful. She isn't like Ron, she lets people hit her so that she rises up the chain of command. She bows into mud and weeps, she knocks herself down the totem pole time and time again.

Ron reaches a hand out for her and she spits at him. She's evil now. She must die.

But then… Ron thinks of Will Du, the agent who was actually quite silly, who correctly guessed his coffee order, the one Kim never assumed she was even wrong about. Will Du died — and Ron actually believes Kim when she says she didn't do it. She didn't kill him. But Ron has killed someone alright. He killed Shego, and he might kill Hego right now.

Is Hego worth giving up a piece of his soul?

Maybe. Kim may not have killed but she's evil, and Ron has killed but he's good. It's all blurry, difficult to interpret. If he kills Hego, it might make Ron look worse. Or feel worse. Feeling is worse than looking, Ron wants to sleep tonight, he's tired with so much Kim on his brain.

His eye hurts. Half his vision is black now that it has been sliced open like a grape.

Ron doesn't throw Hego. Instead Ron's back snaps and he almost falls over as Hego rolls across the floor like a cat who wants to play. Hego gets up and looks over to the blond boy and sees blue light crackling from the bloody cut in his eye. The light is bright — first it solidifies and then it's just wisps. It dissipates and when it's gone, the cut is still there.

You can hear pebbles falling from the ceiling and tapping the floor.

Ron looks up at Hego breathing deeply. "Your sister abused my best friend and tried to kill me. I overdid it, sure, but — that's how it happened." Ron gets up and Hego takes a step back.

Shego's wake had to be closed casket but Ron knows that Hego likely opened it anyways, and knows the disgust he felt when he found the cut coursing through her eye. That was Ron. Ron did that to someone, mangled someone to such a grotesque extent.

Hego frowns and takes off his domino mask — it doesn't really make a difference — Hector Go is obviously Hego but still — Ron appreciates the sentiment. "I know my sister was bad — I didn't see what you saw but I — I just wish I could have saved her."

Ron's eyes widen and his right side roars with pain at the stretch of the torn eyelid. He can — should — heal it but he doesn't. He wants to remember.

"You understand why I banned you from Bueno Nacho right?" Hego says.

Ron's head barely moves but it does nod.

"I didn't think we'd cross paths again — it was all I could do — but I didn't believe you'd be so arrogant to show up here and act like nothing happened."

Ron's eye narrow. "You know what? I'll take it, but if you get in my fucking way again — I'll kill your sorry ass. Got it?"

Time to go. Ron focuses and tries to heal the cut again. But again the magic fizzles out.

Because Ron can only use the magic on things he really cares about.

* * *

What a trip.

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 3, 2008: 2:07PM**

The feed becomes so still it almost appears like a glitch, but Kim knows it's just Ron standing still. It's hard seeing the injury in his eye, she leans into the screen but it's just a faint pink overlapping his normally pale face. It's an odd shape too, like it was flesh that was cut and shifted outwards. Very nasty.

"Ron," Kim whispers faintly. "Heal it."

Ron's neck cracks to the right and now Kim sees the injury in its full glory. She remembers the last time she saw something like this. Her chest feels light at the mere memory of Shego.

Ron brings a hand to his mouth and blows a kiss towards Kim, fingers then cracking into his palm. Tendrils of blue flash over the camera lens and then the feed goes dead.

Shit.

She shouldn't have steered it so close — but she needed to see, she needed to know.

Needing to distract herself, Kim grabs her earpiece. "Aviarius, you there?

"_Yeah_," he rasps back weakly. "_Am I in trouble?"_

Kim winces. Talking to these supervillains is like child counseling. "No, you're okay. Good soldier. It won't be long before Stoppable comes back up to finish you."

Stoppable, she needs to call him Stoppable now, like he's nobody to her.

"_I can't, he tied me up._"

"I've been tied up too," Kim leans back, trying to get comfortable. "I'm going to talk you through it — you need to dislocate something and it'll hurt, but we'll take care of you when you make it home. But I need you to try."

Kim waits with bated breath, hoping against hope that Aviairius says yes. It's not even about the stuipd gem he's grabbing for her, she just needs him to try something.

"_Okay, Kim_," Aviairus wheezes. "_I'll try for you_."

Kim smiles; she knows she's not the evil villain Ron wants to paint her as. Her soul hasn't been fully bought yet, and she can still be Kim Possible. She takes in a deep breath, and prepares to give Aviarius her full self.


	11. The Gala

Kim arrives at the Gala arm-in-arm with Hank Perkins, her handler for the evening, and Big Daddy Brotherson. They sort of make an evil mobster version of a Red Rover Red Rover game. Though the moment they arrive at the door, they have to break up and coordinate coming in separately. After all, people can't really know who Big Daddy works for now.

It comes to Kim's attention that it's at these rich person galas that it is acceptable for obviously illicit figures like Big Daddy to be present. It makes her mad — these people have the wealth to do something and they don't. She wonders how many foes she's gone up against have been able to come to these shindigs and clash wine glasses.

**Global Justice Gala: Washington DC  
April 5, 2008: 8:45PM**

"Remember, hold your temper," Hank mutters before breaking off from Kim. "I'll keep an eye on you, but there's only so much I can do."

It makes Kim feel terribly lonely, but she understands. She doesn't even really know why she's here, or who she's expected to come as. Walking through the throngs of tuxedos 1 and their wives, Kim feels horribly out of place in her cheap, black suit and red tie. Yes, she resorted back to her Shego-lite get-up; she got nervous.

She misses her cats. She wants to go home, this already isn't very much fun. There's no one to hang out with — she detests all these people.

"Miss Possible," a high-pitched voice coos from a lonely place. Kim turns and sees Doctor Cyrus Bortel, a man she personally betrayed back at Global Justice. Kim brushes her hair back and nervously makes her way over to him, not sure whether or not a handshake is appropriate.

Fortunately Bortel keeps his arms folded, arm crooked so that he may properly sniff at his wine. "You have a lot of nerve coming here."

Kim raises an eyebrow. 'Uh… okay? Girl saves the world a few times, don't see how that — "

Bortel shakes his head. "You know what I mean."

Kim doesn't.

Bortel titters, and steps forward, presumptuously throwing an arm around Kim's shoulders. "Hoo, you've lost weight," he says a little airily. "Some height too, huh? What happened to you?"

Kim doesn't know what to say, so she stays silent. She starts to regret ditching the prosthetics. Before, it was cute and made her feel happy. Now it's a problem, because some of these people know what she's supposed to look like and makeup can only go so far.

"Wow, you peed in your Cheerios," Bortel grunts and points out some of the people at the gala. "There are some investors of BP oil, that's one of Jack Hench's big donors, hm — where is, ah! Yes, family of Agent Will Du, other agents you may recognize, all people who don't like you very much."

Kim tries to act unsurprised, but it does feel… trappish. But how could it be? Some journalists are here too, she recognizes some of them from her hero days. "You still with Global Justice?" she asks, trying to change topics.

"Duh," Bortel chortles, backing off. "They pay well, and love my technology."

"The Moodulators?" Kim smirks broadly.

Bortel blinks, and waves that off. "Well, not necessarily…"

"Yeah, right," Kim drawls. "You're being paid to condition soldiers, so you're one to talk."

She doesn't actually know if that's true, but this is as good of a moment as any to find out. Thankfully, Bortel has a bad bluff and his retort makes Kim snicker. Makes her feel better about being so anti-Global Justice.

"I'm looking forward to the day I get to take you down," Kim says noncommittally, turning away so Bortel can't see her watching him from the blurriest edge of her peripherals. "I've wrapped up this BP thing so maybe outing Global Justice for what they are could be next."

Bortel blanches. Kim doesn't really intend to strike Global Justice next, but she wants them to think that. She wants them to make her scared. She knows it's mean but they've done far worse. "See ya, Bortel."

She wanders off. She kinda likes this new world she lives in, as in she hasn't had too much crossover with her old life that she needs to feel concerned over guilt. But Bortel is unfortunately one of those faces that brings back old memories. The others — Betty, Team Impossible, etc — are all folks she hardly knew before. So it's easy enough to disassociate from it.

"Well, look at Little Miss BP herself."

Speak of the Devil. Betty Director sits at a table, flanked by a myriad of ghouls in suits, one of them being John F. Milligan from Gilead Industries. He sneers at her with such contempt, but his eyes glow like gems in the light. Kim wonders if he was backing Global Justice before what Kim did back at Gilead, or if she made an even bigger enemy for herself.

Betty motions for Kim to get closer, but Kim shakes her head. "No thanks."

Betty grins impishly, leaning back in her chair, arm crooked over the table. "Glad you could make it, honey."

Kim narrows her eyes; she doesn't know what she did to warrant such contempt from this woman. She almost wants to ask, but she's had enough humiliation to last her a lifetime by this point. "For a group called_ Global _Justice, you sure do you have a lot of backers who are old, white, and cis."

One of the businessmen snickers at the word: Cis. They have no idea how privileged they are to laugh at that, but Kim can't comment on that. She's still stealth. She might need to consider playing it down a bit so she doesn't get laughs from the peanut gallery, because Kim is being deathly serious and apparently it's all just a joke to them.

"You're one to talk, Miss White and Cis," Betty cracks.

Kim blinks. "No, I'm tr— nevermind." She needs to be more careful. "What I'm saying is your funding doesn't really match your M.O."

"Lotta bold talk from a dark money gal like yourself," Betty hisses, cheek resting on her knuckle, legs crossed over each other. So calmly she sits among these billionaires, like she's one of them. "How did you get the funding to do that demonstration at Gilead? Must have cost a lot."

Kim flushes and looks away.

"Whatever it is, I have more," John F. Milligan adds on. "And furthermore I will — "

"Quiet," for once, Betty breaks composure. Steadily, she turns back on Kim. "One of our other funders is running late, but you should at least stay to listen to his speech."

Kim sneers, looking into Betty's single eye. It feels like it's burrowing deep into her, like — _she knows._ Betty was there the night Kim nearly got herself caught. She was in that awful mobster get-up, pretending to be a dude, when Betty trounced her and throttled her to the ground. And she laughed.

Kimturns away abruptly, almost immediately falling into the close embrace of Hank. "This is a trap," Hank hisses. "We should go."

Kim eyes him nervously. "Did something happen?"

"Awkward conversation with the President of the NRA among other things," Hank shakes his head. "These guests were set to specifically humiliate us, trust me."

Kim considers that. "I believe you, but I want to know what Betty wants us to hear."

Hank frowns, giving Kim one of his classic disappointed-in-Kim looks. A spike in the sound around them as a live orchestra begins strumming their violins and violas. A harsh tango, as it were.

"You can watch it on Youtube tomorrow," Hank purses his lips.

"No, it's not like they can hurt us here," Kim says, trying to put her Big "Big" Daddy pants on. "Let's see it through."

"Pardon me," a soft voice coos. "I'd like to offer the lady a dance."

Immediately, Hank shifts past Kim, trying to swat the newcomer away. "Get out of here — she doesn't want to see you."

Kim looks behind her and sees that it's Stoppable of all people extending his hand. Clad in what looks to be a very expensive three piece complete with a ruby red bowtie, he smirks at her past his eyepatch covering the surely now infected eye she witnessed getting slashed open just days before. It makes Kim's hairs stand on end.

This, too, feels important.

Daintily, she offers her leather gloved hand and lets it fall into Ron's fleshy pale palm. He kisses her like a gentleman, tugging her towards the dance floor.

…

"You need to have that eye looked at."

"Why? I think the patch makes me look pretty bon-diggity charming," Ron giggles, twirling Kim around him with a lot of thespian flourish. "If you cared that much, Kimmie, you could have called an ambulance for me but nooo… you were coaching Aviarius on how to escape."

Kim winces, and suddenly feels very unsafe under Ron's grip. Just being around him gives her a migraine, it's like he's giving off some kind of anxiety radiation. "He's my people…"

Ron rolls his eye. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. So tell me, how much of that was a set-up? Because it sure felt like a _gotcha_ to me, Kim."

"It wasn't," Kim answers fast, "I didn't think you'd tail Aviairius like that."

"Then you're underestimating how pissed off I am at you," Ron hisses, turning her back to the crowd, chest getting uncomfortably close to her own — or rather, face, now that she's a whole head shorter than Ron know. "People kinda want you dead."

"I know," Kim says, trying to sound tough. She doubts it is working, but she needs to try something. "You don't need to explain these things to me — I know what I'm getting myself into. I think you're the one out of your league."

"Ooh hoo hoo hoo!" Ron purses his lips, a bit of that Zorpox cackle coming out of him. "You're the one who's out of your league, shorty. What happened to those stupid stilts you were using? Did ya trip on them and get a boo boo?"

"Stop it!" Kim hisses, "Why are you so mean to me? I didn't do anything to you!"

Ron cringes. "Really? Yeah, okay. Maybe you turning yourself into a boy?"

"That has nothing to do with you," Kim snaps, wishing she could let go of Ron to pop a downer. But she knows he would just drag her hand back into place. "And I'm not a boy."

Ron sighs, "Yeah, you're — something — an _it?_ — I don't know. Anyways, you saw how I beat Team Go, Kim, and _they have superpowers."_ He holds his gaze on Kim for a long time. She feels unsteady and tries to pivot around him in the dance, but he pulls her closer. His fingers dig deep into her arms, far deeper than necessary.

"You're hurting me," she whines, tugging at his grip to get away.

"Aw, wah wah," Ron laughs, Adam's Apple bobbing with his energy.

"Ron, stop," Yori's cold voice cuts like glass, and she breaks up the duo with a precise swat at Ron's wrists. She turns on Ron, hand to her hip. "Your behavior around Kim-san is unacceptable."

Ron narrows his eyes, "If your heart bleeds so much for that freak, Yori, maybe you should get in line with her."

Yori looks back at Kim with a scalding smirk. "Maybe I will." And walks away. Definitely staged. Ron's trying to plant Yori into her ranks with the concept that Yori can be a double agent.

Heh heh. Go Yori.

Wait, Yori's here? That must mean — ow, she feels that claw running through her mind again.

"Wade is here too," Ron says as if it isn't a big deal that he's reading Kim's mind right now. "Though I wouldn't pay him a visit."

"I doubt he likes you that much either," Kim snaps back, finally shoving him off her. It turns a few heads so she tries to keep it down. "What happened to you, Ron? This is all so unlike you, are you talking to Sensei more?"

Ron blinks, telling Kim that yes, he is. It's then that she feels an unsettling crackling near her elbows. It raises the hairs on her skin, even beneath the tightly folded blazer. It scares her. It's then that she notices that he is blue eying. She actually hasn't seen his brown eyes in some time now...

"Ron, are you — that can't be healthy…"

Ron's teeth grinding ceases and he relaxes, the threatening crackle on Kim's skin dissipating. "Why? You upset I'm tapping into my full potential for once?"

That holds for a second and it turns even more heads. It makes Kim feel bad, and she just needs to go. She needs to get away from him, so she turns and walks in the other direction.

"Oh, is that right, Kim?!" Ron shouts. "You walk away from me, but not Shego, who by the way, is dead?! I see you dressing like her, I see you — "

…

Water floods into Kim's face and it doesn't make a difference. She thought this would calm her down, or make her grounded, or something. But she just ends up with a wet collar and a need to reapply her makeup.

It sucks. She looks like a little kid again. The makeup is supposed to make her face more angular, but the babyfat is more obvious than ever now. The little gray splotches on her skin — where her facial hair usually grows in — are also no longer hidden by her concealer.

Being around Ron makes her feel so anxious. He's wrong about her, by the way. She's not running away. She's been really good at showing up to each and every challenge this year. She's a winner.

"Are you alright? That was quite the dressing down."

Kim turns and sees Big Daddy hobbling up to her. Thank goodness for the gender neutral bathroom. He runs a pudgy hand along the smooth countertop. "But he's wrong about you."

"Thanks," Kim sighs, hair damp around her cheeks. "I know he's wrong — but they don't know what I'm going through… and I wish they knew all the gory details so they could get why I'm right."

"Mm," Big Daddy nods, checking himself in the mirror. "But why are you trying? You put so much attention on him… he isn't part of our plan."

Kim frowns. "No, he isn't, but — I don't know, Sensei's playing him. He's using him like a tool and it's really gross, and I just want to try to save him."

"From what?"

"Himself!" Kim shouts, blushing when she realizes her volume. "If I just said that to him three minutes ago…" But maybe that wouldn't have changed anything. Maybe her fate is already sealed.

"That isn't the winner you think it is," Big Daddy confirms it, and gently takes Kim by the shoulder. "Well, Big "Big" Daddy, you are going to march out there with me and hold yourself together for one more hour."

One hour without crying? Kim can do that, she does that most days now. She nuzzles closer to Big Daddy's grip, she likes how fatherly it feels. She kinda wishes she could spend the night with him and Hank, that would make her feel better. They could have fun!

Wait… Hank.

Kim digs her heels into the tiled floor. "Hold up — why are _you_ doing this? Usually, Hank is my damage control guy."

Big Daddy sighs, head cracking into a big frown. "It gives me sorrow to admit it, but Hank and I are having a disagreement."

Kim raises an eyebrow.

"Don't mock," Big Daddy wags a finger. "Hank wants us to leave, and I want us to stay." He stares at Kim a moment longer. "We will not be made fools of. Whatever Betty Director is planning, I want our frontlines staring them in the eye, unphased. I want them to know we are a threat no matter what they throw at us."

Kim runs a hand through her hair, fingers gripping her scalp. She feels dizzy and upset. "I need a minute to — o-oh, hi Wade?"

Big Daddy's eyes widen. "Wade? My name isn't Wade, it's Big Daddy — "

Wade pushes past Big Daddy, clad in a Global Justice uniform, eyes half-lidded. He tries to make his way into a stall without eye contact, but freezes nevertheless. "Kim? Is that — whoa, you look different."

Kim bites her lip. Shit shit shit.

Wade walks up to her, and finds that he is almost as tall as Kim now. "Either I had a bigger growth spurt than I thought, or you shrunk, Kim."

Kim's eyes go wide. It's harder to control herself when she's this embarrassed. Wade has always been something of a kid brother to her, and now he of all people is taller than her? What is she supposed to say? Sorry, haha, I am bulimic? No. Kim can't think of anything, so she says, "I don't want to talk about it."

Wade blinks. "It's just, um, you look like you're my age…"

Kim detects a shimmer in his voice. She wants to run away and shove her face into something where she'll never be seen again, but what's the point of trying. Wade could be her friend again. Maybe. "C-can I hug you?"

Wade frowns. "Um… I don't know. Kim, what's wrong?"

Kim used to be able to tell Wade everything — he was her only friend when she was planning the move to Paris. "Can you keep a secret?" she whispers. Something about her being closer to Wade's age makes this feel better.

"Um… depends on what it is? I work for Global Justice now, Kim, and I don't think it's a good idea for us to be friends..."

Kim doesn't like that. It's childish, but she really just wants friends right now. She misses them.

Apparently, Kim looks so sad that it prompts the hug. Wade's arms wrap around Kim's back. She doesn't like the feeling of his stiff suit on hers, it doesn't feel normal. But after a tentative grab, Wade relaxes and the touch feels really good.

But there it is — that perfect moment. Join me Wade and we can rule the galaxy as — um, teen hero and tech kid. But she doesn't want to do that, she doesn't want to risk Wade's life.

Then she hears a sob from Wade. Whoa. Kim draws her head back and looks at him, he's crying. Usually it's Kim who cries, she isn't used to comforting other people. But she kinda likes that she gets to try it. Gently, she guides Wade into one of the stalls and sits him on the toilet. They're both small enough to fit on the same seat together.

It's the first time Kim feels kinda thankful that she is who she is now — would this be happening if she was still cis and old? No. She knows it wouldn't.

"Are you okay?" Kim asks innocently, she knows her voice is drifting into a softer place than usual.

Wade shakes his head. "No."

"I'm sorry," Kim frowns, some of those insecurities swooping back in hard. "Wade, I still wanna be your friend, I'm sorry that I hurt you and took advantage of your trust and — "

"You? Sorry?!" Wade nearly screams. He looks at her, snot dripping from his nose. He bites his lip and shakes his head. "I'm the one who killed the feed you had with that map in Global Justice! _I could've gotten you killed, Kim_."

It actually takes Kim a moment to remember that. She remembers needing Ron's abilities to work her way through the labyrinth back on Christmas Day. "But… um, I didn't. I was safe, you were — in the right, I think. I don't know. It's… it's okay. I get why you would — "

"Stop acting like it's okay, Kim!" Wade blurts out. "Look at you! Something bad happened, it's probably my fault — "

Wade keeps talking and Kim really doesn't know what to say. She grabs her arm and looks away. This isn't Wade's fault, and dammit, he thinks she's a freak too. She knows he doesn't mean it but it still hurts.

She misses being old — when her life wasn't as complicated. She didn't have to feel or care or anything, she just had to work.

Kim messes with her hair and looks to Wade. "Um… c-can you keep a secret?"

Wade nods.

"I'm t-t-t-t-" her tongue gets caught on the -t- sound at the beginning of that word like always. "-t-t-t-trans," Kim says. "Trans," she repeats, she wants to own it. "And little."

Wade blinks. "B-but… h-how? Kim, oh my gosh, you're not kidding, are you? You kinda look like a boy..."

Kim winces. The estrogen isn't working fast enough. "I'm… listen, R-R-Ro—"

"_Tell him and I'll hit you hard, KP."_

In her mind's eye, she sees herself flinching at a hand raised over her head. She doesn't want to get hit again, she doesn't want to go there again. But what is she supposed to tell Wade?

"I'm a girl," Kim insists. "Don't call me a boy… I'm trying."

"Sorry," Wade frowns. "Kim, I'm scared for you. Ron keeps telling me how you're really a crime lord and — "

The venom comes to Kim's fangs so fast. "Don't listen to him! He's a liar, he's — he's… okay — "

A phantom thumb to her throat. "_Hey, give a guy credit where it's due, huh?"_

" — maybe he's telling the truth… but Ron hurt me — " it catches in her throat, her lips start moving automatically. " — _and I hate all of you for doing this to me. I hate you in particular for what you did to me at Global Justice."_

Bile rushes to her mouth, she tries to hold it back. "Ron," she wheezes, and it hurts so much more.

"_Don't fuck with me, KP,_" Ron hisses.

Kim looks up, away from Wade and though she can't see him, she feels herself staring Ron in the eyes, and this time it's Kim that blinks. Horrible words come to her lips and it's so painful to hold them back, and she knows Wade is already devastated. Legs quivering like harp strings, she holds herself against the stall. "You should go," she manages to say before Ron can really bomb this friendship.

Wade nods and despite all odds, hugs Kim again. It's getting hard for her to control herself, and she was doing so good. Kim tentatively touches Wade. "I'm sorry," she chokes. She knows Ron is fucking off about now, not much to do here. "It's not safe around him — p-p-please go…"

"O-okay," Wade sniffs. "Um, can you go though? One of Betty's big donor is giving a speech, I hate him so much, I hate that this is happening," Wade looks away from her. "You have to stop him, Kim."

Why does he believe in her so much? It makes her feel awful. She squeezes Wade tight. Who knows when she'll see him next. "Text me, okay? I miss you."

"I miss you too, Kim."

…

Jack Hench is as polished as ever. "...so I appreciate y'all hearing me out this evening," he monologues into the microphone. He leans back, arms stretched over the podium. "If anything, my loss this primary election has given me the will to do so much more to protect our planet from ne'er do wells and riff-raff."

The audience is rapt in their attention to his words. Kim hesitates to scream that he is a fraud who doesn't belong here, but knows she is in a room filled with people inclined to disagree with her.

Hench continues, "I am re-aligning myself and Hench Co. in a new partnership with Global Justice."

Kim feels her heart quicken, her chest goes tight. This is what Betty was warning Kim about.

Hench steps aside and gestures to the red curtain behind him. They part as Professor Dementor marches out with his chest puffed out, his crimson robe replaced with the uniform of a Global Justice agent.

Oh no.

"It does the world no good for me to be working with the villainous intent on taking over the world when a greater evil looms ahead of us," Hench says, smiling wider with each former-villain that marches out.

Duff Killigan, DNAmy, Senor Senior Sr. and Jr., Motor Ed, Gemini, Electronique, and Camille Leon. All assembled in one line with their fists at their sides, their expressions unusually blank and serious. It's… upsetting to say the least.

"That's what I bring to the table," Hench says. "Unity between heroes and villains… so that we can defeat one common foe."

Kim's face scrunches up in concentration. Is it Master Sensei? Did his deal go south with Hench, and that's why Yori is here? A-and… after this, Betty will ask Kim to be part of this? Because it's a definitive no, she can never work with these people, she can't give up her morals for — "

"The Bermuda Triangle is rising."

Oh.

Heads all around the room pivot, searching for who at first Kim thinks to be herself, but really they are searching for Big Daddy. But one eye in particular falls on Kim. She doesn't see Betty Director, but knows it's her, trying to burrow deep into her very soul. Kim ignores her; she has to.

"Oh, you shouldn't put so much pressure on our dear friend, Big Daddy," Hench grins. "He's a stooge now — didn't y'all hear about the new Big "Big" Daddy that ascended recently? Their identity… is unknown, but — I have my theories."

His eyes flit to Kim. Kim is sure some other anxious billionaires follow that gaze.

A screen lowers down from the rafters and it shows a picture of Kim in Denver, dressed in her Towtruck Stanson get-up, eyes bugging out of her head as she writhes. It must be a bodycam picture from Betty. Kim winces; is that really what she looks like? Her skin crawls at the notion.

Everybody laughs because this person looks ridiculous.

"That is the new Big "Big" Daddy," Hench sneers. "From my understanding at least, he's… make no mistake, friends. _He _is evil, he's a killer, and we're gonna lose to him unless we get our shit together… now, I can't lead a Strike Force to save my life," Hench chuckles, pausing to take a drink of water. "So I hired someone better than I to do it."

This is it — the moment. The declaration of an arch enemy. Who could it be?

Team Impossible?

A mourning sibling of Will Du?

Doctor Drakken in a brilliant twist? Ooh, that could be kinda cool. But would it be Drakken playing type to trick Global Justice, or would it be Drakken betraying Kim after everything she has done… no.

Dammit. That doesn't even make her feel sad! None of those — even Drakken — make Kim feel a damn thing, she just needs to know that it isn't —

Ron —

— steps out onto the stage and everything within Kim collapses. Ron doesn't even look like himself in the Global Justice get-up and eyepatch. Several of 1 get up to applaud Ron's presence among all this, and Kim watches in horror as Ron's still face sinks into a pleased smile. Finally, the recognition he has been looking for.

For a second, Ron's single eye twirls to Kim, and his smile gets even broader. Without looking to Hench, he holds out a hand towards him presumptuously. "Hench, baby. Give the Ron Man some time with the mic."

Hench hands it over.

"I've spent the past few years taking these mooks standing besides me out every step of the way into their plots for world domination," Ron says, kneeling down while jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Yeah, if you mean bungling Kim's hard work…

"So when I was approached to head this operation, I was a little reluctant," Ron says. "But then I talked with Hench and dude — this guy deserved the Nevada victory. He wants everyone to step out across the aisle to meet a common foe. So what I would like right now…" He stands up, finger twirling around the mic cable. "...I want everyone to find an enemy of theirs and shake their hand."

Ron pauses for emphasis. "Oh no! I'm sorry, I goofed. Haha, silly Ron. You all have been friends and allies forever! Though I am looking at a little girl right now who could totally make some amends right now." He leans down and reaches out towards Kim, somehow seductively.

All eyes turn to Kim. Kim, who is still wet from the sink and make-up free, looking awful foolish. Some people notice how bad she looks, how something clearly happened to her to make her look like that.

"Kim Possible — " Ron announces. " — has spent the past few months protesting Gilead Industries and BP Oil. Now, on the flippity, tabloids keep harping on it and for once they're right — Kim and I are estranged."

Ron lets that sink in. Kim already knows where this is going, and it makes spit queue up her in her throat for her to throttle at Ron. But she knows she can't do anything, not in the shark's den.

"We've had our differences well publicized," Ron says, his face darkening quickly. "Our break-up sucked, but it doesn't have to be like this, you know? See… Kim." He tries so hard to make this seem honest, but Kim sees right through this charade. "...KP — we need you right now more than ever to defeat the true enemy to this planet — the Bermuda Triangle. Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson. They've infiltrated our elections and our economy. Can you step up?"

A voice in Kim's head boldly says it, "_No_."

So she puts faith in that voice. "No."

No one seems surprised. Ron, still smirking, backs away. "That's the attitude that will make us fail, fellas. So go ahead Possible, keep protesting. See what good it does. I'll be here, doing _the work_."

Shego used to tell Kim something like that all the time, at least in regards to _the work_. If anything positive came from that relationship, it was that: _Trust the work._ Maybe it's the mentality that got Shego killed, but it is also what brought Kim this far.

Kim will never back down from what she knows is right, she will not falter to these intimidation tactics. She knows she is the real deal.

Kim turns on her heel and finds Big Daddy and Hank fast. She is sure there is more to this gala, but she has seen enough. Kim shoots them both an icy glare that says, "_Let's get to work,"_ and motions for them to follow her out.

Overall, she's glad she came. Now she knows what these people really stand for: each other. Nothing more.


	12. Trysts

"Didya know that if ya rearrange the letters in my name you get _Hi Ron_?"

Kim frowns and turns around — classic Rhino, making jokes to cheer her up. But they aren't so funny when her anxiety is through the roof.

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 6, 2008: 9:13PM**

There's a party at the Bermuda Triangle, folks from all over the underworld not yet drifted to Global Justice's _Kill Kim_ club have been invited. It's supposed to be some kind of celebration over the fact that the Bermuda Triangle is now considered a _threat_.

Though Kim doesn't know how she feels about that. According to Hank, it's the best possible outcome from the gala. Big Daddy says that too, as peeved as he was. Apparently, having to sleep with one eye open is a good thing.

Kim sighs, looking away from her desk and spreadsheets she needs to log data for. Music booms in the background. "Can you repeat that, Rhino?"

Rhino nods, grinning from ear to ear. He's dressed down tonight, his pink chest showing over the brim of his tank top. "If you rearrange the letters in my name, you get _Hi Ron."_

Kim blinks. "Oh yeah. I guess that's true, huh?"

Rhino grins, definitely aware of how uncomfortable Kim is. "Mhm — mebbe next time ya bump into dat clown you can tell 'im something like dat. Break da ice a li'l, y'know?"

Kim forces a smile, speaking in a small voice. "Thanks Rhino."

Rhino stands still for a moment, possibly second guessing himself. "C'mon, KP. You should come to da party. It's for you."

Kim shakes her head. "They don't even know who I am — "

"Everyone knows Kim Possible, she's so — "

"Rhino..."

She feels bad; it's like scolding an overly excited child. "You know what I mean." She is the secret operator — it's clear by now to some that Kim is associated with the Bermuda Triangle, just not at what seat she sits. If she even has one. "Can you do me a favor, Rhino? If anyone… asks for me, like Hank, just tell them I went home, okay?"

Finally, Rhino's impetuous grin hesitates and he runs a palm across his bald head. "Yeah, okay, I can do dat… um, KP. Just — um — try tonight. For me, okay? I gotta watch the door an' make sure no palookas come in, ya get?

Kim leans back, spreading her legs and looking through the open door to the flashing lights looming in the distance. It's so… scary. It's her fault. She fell asleep on her couch and missed her bus, and now — it's a trap. She could escape through the window maybe… though she thinks at some point Hank installed something to stop her from doing gnarly things like that. She should just play it cool.

What would Shego do? This is _so_ Shego's world… ooh, imagine if Shego was Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson. Kim wishes that were the case… and that maybe it was Kim who died at Ron's hand.

...oh, now Kim is really hurting, ouch. She tries to think of how hot it would be for Shego to parade around telling people what to do, and that kinda makes her grin. Even though it's wrong to think happy things about Shego.

Kim feels really sad today. She feels sad a lot, but today is a particular kind of melancholy.

She opens up a drawer in her desk, rummaging around for a pill bottle, knuckle running along the length of a revolver in that journey. How pleasant. Kim shakes her head and twists off the childproof cap to the bottle, dropping a tablet of bupropion into her palm. Technically, she is only supposed to have one 300MG tablet a day but lately… she has been popping them like Xanaxes. It's probably unhealthy, but it's not like she has a psychiatrist to confirm that with her.

"There you are! I was looking for you!" Hank comes out of nowhere, freezing in the door frame to look at the pill bottle. Chuckling, he leans up against the frame, knuckle to his chin. "Is this the moment, Kimberly?"

Kim's cheeks go pink. "No, I — uh, it's a new… nightly… dosage… y-yeah."

"Oh, I'm sure," Hank laughs dryly, gently guiding the bottle back into the drawer it came from. "There's a good girl. Come on, Kim. Lighten up, it's a party! And you're not allowed to drink anyways, darling." His other hand scoops her by the wrist and slides on that kiddie bracelet again. He laughs sardonically and turns on his heel. "C'mon, lots of interesting characters here. You know how to schmooze right? This is — kind of a villain's networking thing."

As Kim is pulled into the foyer of the party, her eyes catch on the dazzling lights flashing all around and Kim can only pretend to hear Hank. She doesn't want to look at anyone or talk to anyone tonight, she wants to go home and hold one of her cats or something. This is a lot — her last brush with a party of any sort was…

...the night Kim drank for the first time and got stabbed in the stomach…

Scratch that, there has to be a happier memory…

Senior Prom with Ron? No. Junior Prom with Ron? No… no no no fuck. Is it just this? Will this be what a party is to her — Kim realizes then that this dull, high throbbing sounding off around her is her own voice as she wades through the crowds to talk to people. She looks to Hank, his face blurred in the mist.

One of Kim's friends from group always writes her dark thoughts down as they come. It helps her pinpoint the root of her problems and right now, Kim is pretty sure she is dissociating. How did that happen? She isn't sure but journaling the moment can't hurt… maybe? She just needs a second to step away.

Kim turns to Hank. "Hey, I actually have an idea for a new scheme — can I just take a second in my office to jot down some notes?"

Hank raises an eyebrow. "Well, I am your human notebook."

Kim blinks.

Hank laughs. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter — you can't drink anyways so don't worry about forgetting anything."

Kim stops and Hank almost trips. "You know that isn't fair," she whines. "I've drank before — I'm Big "Big" Daddy now, right? Doesn't that count for something?"

God, she doesn't even know why she is self-advocating for this.

Hank rolls his eyes. "Don't tell normal Big Daddy I guess," he shoves a hand into his blazer and pulls out a little white rod. It's barely the length of a pinky finger, but before Kim can get a good look at it, Hank stuffs it into her breast pocket and then continues to court her around the party. "Okay so over there is Bonekiller McGee — that's his real name, true story. He'd be great to have on board as a contract guy…."

Hank keeps saying names and associating them with jobs but Kim barely follows. She peeks into her breast pocket whenever Hank's not looking. Hank gave her a cigarette, Kim's pretty sure, but accidentally crushed it when he shoved it in her pocket. The thing's all shrimpy and smooshed, but Kim is too embarrassed to point it out.

Suddenly, Hank's fingers play Kim's back like a piano. She jerks her head back up to follow Hank's excitement and sees that he is pointing out Nong Man, her new Number Two. "Hey Nong Man!" Hank calls out. "Good to see you."

At first, Nong Man is pleased to be acknowledged, but quickly his eyes narrow. "Hang on man," he points at Kim with no sense of etiquette. "Why are you staring at your boobs?"

Kim looks up and blushes. She feels like she's supposed to be offended but something about Nong Man's vibrant personality makes it socially acceptable for him to say _boobs_ to her some reason. Anyways, she breaks eye contact from her chest and panics. "I was actually looking at the cigarette Hank gave me. It's all crushed and stuff."

"Oh no," Hank mutters.

What? What did Kim say? She found that to be a pretty fair question.

Nong Man smirks like a wretched fiend might and intimately strokes Hank's cheek, gently pushing him off to the side with his glittering beetle eyes. "Let me see this so-called _cigarette,_" he smirks.

Kim frowns and hands the ugly tube of paper over to Nong Man. He hems and he haws and the whole time Kim can't help but blurt out things like:

"What's wrong with it?"

"I'm new to this stuff, sorry."

"Oh God, please just tell me."

"Did I break it?"

Nong Man giggles. "Milady," he says sagely, offering the paper back. "This — is no cigarette."

Hank slaps his forehead, muttering something in-distinct.

"What?! What is it?" Kim's eyes are as wide as dinner plates.

"'Tis a joint, my love," Nong Man flicks the joint into the air and Kim nearly falls over diving to catch it. She holds it between her fingers and stares.

"What? A joint? That's not — " Kim's eyelids flutter but it doesn't really help her thinking process. " — what?"

Nong Man shakes his head. "It's Mary Jane."

"What?"

"You know — ganja."

"WHAT?!"

"Um — weed?"

"_**WHAT?!**_"

"Jesus Christ, Kim, how do you not know this? It's marijuana."

"Oh — I got that," Kim crosses her arms, not pleased with Nong Man's presumption of her naivete.

Nong Man is not having it. "What? No you didn't!"

"Okay, it took me like two euphemisms — but no I get it: it's — um — marijuana," Kim looks over to Hank whose hand is planted so hard to his face she's surprised he hasn't accidentally pried it off yet. "Why would you give this to me? It's illegal to smoke weed isn't it?"

Nong Man smacks his lips, like a chef appreciating his craftsmanship and looks down to Hank. "Anyways, hit me up once you wanna start killing those Global Justice motherfuckers."

Hank raises a gnarled finger in protest but it is far too late. He grinds his teeth and shoots a dirty look to Kim. "You know, I really don't enjoy power plays like that. It is unbecoming of a Number Two."

"I don't know about that, Shego was probably really mouthy," Kim sighs, feeling so childish. She wonders if people think she's a kid. She misses having boobs. It sucks having to grow them back again. "Um… I don't like that he's talking about killing people. I've been over this with him, and he just doesn't seem to get it.

Hank raises his brow. "You get what's on the CV, Possible. Nong Man is a professional assassin — he has like two hundred confirmed kills."

"Hang on, man," Kim throws both hands up. "That's not — "

Nong Man pokes his head back in and shuffles back into his place in the circle. "What's up?"

Kim and Hank stare at him and after some time Kim gets what happened and snaps. "Sorry, I said _Hang on man_ not _Hey Nong Man_. I can definitely see how that'd be confusing."

Nong Man's bottom lip folds into his teeth and he waltzes off with a frustrated expression.

Kim looks back at Hank, peeved. "Why's he looking at me like that? Dick, I didn't name him that — but Hank, I don't want hitmen, I want… I don't know, he seems like a good person to me when we hang out. Um." She bites her lip. "You're joking by the way, right?"

"About what? The weed?" Hank shrugs.

"No — the — he just seems so normal. He's killed 200 people?"

"At least," Hank throws an arm around Kim's shoulders, his fist thumping into her chest from overhead. "You'd be surprised at how normal we all are. Anywho," Hank leans in close and pops the joint between her teeth. "I'm gonna show you how to smoke this thing."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I thought we were networking."

"We are — but you're way too anxious right now for us to make any serious contacts."

...

"Oh shit! Is — is it supposed to — " Kim freezes for a second and launches into a coughing fit that extends long enough for it to be a little embarrassing. But fucking Christ that burns, how can you not?

Kim resurfaces with watery eyes, " — is it supposed to — I must be doing it wrong — " Another series of coughs and when Kim resurfaces, lines of saliva drip between her knuckle and lips. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Hank, what is — " Cough. Cough. " — I feel like an idiot. I'm doing it wrong, right?"

Hank leans against the storage closet wall with crossed arms, smirking. "Yes, Miss Possible, it is supposed to do that."

Kim shakes her head in disbelief and Hank offers her the lighter.

"No, I don't — it's still lit — " she looks at the tip of the joint, once flaring in a brilliant orange, now faded back to black. "Oh, okay," she leans forward and waits for the flare to strike and immediately breathes in. Hank pulls the lighter away as the tip lights up again, glowing brighter with her breath.

The white paper blackens and bit by bit becomes ash, too weak to hold on any longer, and crumbles to the tiled floor. After some time, despite the horrible coughing fits, Kim finds the red flares crawling towards her settling down, the fire like veins. It's then that she finally notices the smoke erupting from the joint, yet somehow managing to elegantly curve its way through the air.

Finally Hank swipes the joint from her.

"Hey, I wasn't done!"

"You're high enough. I don't want to have to worry about you," he puts the joint on a wooden shelf, high up where he knows she can't reach it anymore. It makes her angry.

"I'm not a child," Kim blurts out, and only feels younger at lashing out. She feels really paranoid all of a sudden — is Hank going to make her take a time out? She wants to stay up and hang out with everyone, but now it feels like… oh man, snap out of it, Kim. "Wait, I am high?"

"Oh my God. Yes Kim. I'd even go so far as to say you're _stoned._"

"Huh," Kim frowns, coughing again. "I don't believe you but okay."

"Uh huh, well, let's get you back to the main floor and do some recruiting," Hank wraps an arm around her shoulders and walks her out. They twist through the halls and for a little bit, Kim feels sad.

There was definitely a kick — a moment where she drifted off — but she's pretty sure she's just disassociating. Probably from the guilt of doing drugs. Even Shego wanted her away from those things. And it's worse for networking, and as childish as it is, she wishes Hank let her finish off the joint so she could _actually_ get high.

"Hey Hank," Kim lifts her head. They've been walking for way too long down these boring hallways with white walls. "We're going the wrong way."

"What?" Hank doesn't seem to know what she's talking about and she tries to retort but as they push through the last door — turns out they're in the open floor lounge after all. Business is booming and villains are still scattered all over the place.

"Wow, everyone's still here?" Kim's eyes widen. She suddenly feels thirsty.

"Yeah, we were only gone for 5 minutes, Kimmie," Hank chuckles. "You're gonna do great tonight. Just like — be cool, okay?"

"Okay," she says dully and feels very alone as he walks off. She really didn't like Hank at first — he did pull a gun on her in Paris after all ("_It's a negotiating tactic_!") but he's really not that bad. He's kind of been like a new father to her — or maybe mother. Oh, no, that's homophobic. Just because Hank and Big Daddy are in a relationship doesn't mean there has to a mother. Kim wishes she had a mommy though, and Hank is nice to her enough sometimes.

Like when he came over and found her curled up with her cats and didn't make fun of her. Maybe she should ask Hank if her two mommies — daddies — could adopt her. She misses having parents.

...oh shit, is she high? Is this what high people think about? Oh man, can everyone tell? Kim looks around, clutching her head. She hopes they don't notice because it is so embarrassing.

Her throat is dry, so Kim walks up to the banquet table and snags some water. Oh, the water! The water tastes_ so pure_ — as if it's loaded with minerals and snatched from the most beautiful freshwater lake. She's on a mountain — drinking the nectar — oh fuck.

Someone she doesn't know comes up and starts talking to Kim. She looks at him and meekly snatches some shrimp from the table. He's talking about villainy and bad guy stuff and — insurance? Sounds boring. She bites off another shrimp tale and chews it loudly. Slurp goes the shrimp and she burps. But the guy doesn't even skip a beat, totally didn't even notice how rude Kim was just trying to be, and keeps talking. Keeps. Fucking. Talking.

"Shrimp tastes good, especially with ice," Kim grins.

The dude furrows his brow and mouths _What the fuck?_ before going on this whole thing about insurance and how much Kim's goons need it. Like, read the room, pal! How green do you have to be to not notice Kim's disinterest in his 'product?' She kinda wants to beat him up.

"Oh fuck, I'm vegan — I forgot," Kim frowns and flicks the scraps of shrimp between her fingers to the floor. She looks back at the tray and imagines the misery she just enacted upon the ocean. It makes her emotional. "I need a moment alone. Eating animal products is wrong."

"Okay, whatever," he moans and walks away.

Well — maybe the misery of the sea was worth it? Because it got that guy to finally fuck off… no, but now he thinks she is a bad vegan. That is unacceptable! She just lapsed at the sight of food. She must stop him from going any farther.

"Wait!" Kim screams and he stops. "But eating animals is _okay_ — I'm not judging you, we're at a point in our culture where it's not economically or culturally feasible to go vegan — and — and — AND hey, don't walk away, asshole. I'm complimenting you." She struts up to his side and grabs him by the shoulders. "Being vegan is good and it_ does _make a difference — but it's not Priority #1. Priority #1 is to save our rainforests, you know why? Because burning them to a ground is a massive carbon bomb — not to mention rapidly depleting our oxygen supply.

"Priority #2 is to get corporations to stop feeding plastic into our oceans by getting them to switch to bioplastics. We both are inebriated by plastic because of how much of it is in our water, and you can bet that's not healthy. Now, Priority #3 — " Kim's head hurts. " — shit, this is where it gets fuzzy for me but — point is — I killed a deer. Oh and a wolf. In the woods. And I can't inflict harm on any animal again — I have to go vegan because that's where _I_ am. But where are_ you_?"

There's a long pause. Why isn't everybody standing up to applaud her? What a speech. Fuckin' Jon Favreau over here.

Finally, the salesman digs a hand into his pocket. "Well I am vegan — and I think if we all just go vegan, everything will be fine. Activists like you are too weak-willed. Everyone should be vegan!"

"Fuck you, you're a crazy person!" Kim laughs maniacally, and storms off, tears streaming down her cheeks. What a fool! He makes the whole movement look bad — but hey, on the flippity, he isn't doing anything for the world, he's selling insurance so who cares. His damage is minimal.

Shaking her head, wishing someone were still there for her to talk to, Kim mutters under her breath. "We're losing an acre of rainforest every 25 seconds — how can you possibly say going vegan is the solu— oh! Hey Nong Man!" she yelps, having bumped into the broad-shouldered back of the notorious assassin. But he doesn't move. "Hey! I said _Hey Nong Man_!"

"Oh," Nong Man turns around. "I wasn't sure if you were saying _Hang on man!_ again."

"Oh bull_shit_," Kim shakes her head. "Your name's dumb; don't give me that."

Nong Man considers this; it's amazing he has never thought it about like this before in his history of killing people. "That's fair. Um — whoa kiddo — you smoked the shit out of that thing!"

Wait. Did she? She thought she messed it up. Like she isn't high! No way. She bets Nong Man is just tooling on her.

"Did I?" Kim asks innocently, suddenly feeling really sensitive.

"Yeah man, damn, give me some," he swings for a high five and she decides fuck it, why not and goes for it. She misses though and it's very confusing for a second. Then she realizes Nong Man dodged her hand mid-high five on purpose! He snickers as she looks around like she missed something.

"Um — anyways, I wanted to talk to you," Kim blushes.

"Why? You need someone to tell ya the birds n' the bees?"

Kim cringes. "No! I — st-stop it — " she freezes, mid-complaint. Words are failing her right now which is a whole barrel of poop. "You're bullying me and it's not very nice."

Nong Man chuckles. "Damn, you are such a lightweight, hey maybe tomorrow during our training session, I'll teach you how to handle being a stoner."

"Stop it!" Kim yelps. "You're being mean, a-and… um… I want to talk to you! Seriously."

Nong Man raises his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Kim repeats, doing a poor man's imitation of Motor Ed. She liked Motor Ed, he was very funny. Now her rogue's gallery are all scary and decidedly not funny. "Hank told me you've killed 200 people?"

Nong Man's eyes roll to the ceiling and he scratches his neck. "Yeah, but you don't just, like, talk about it like that, you know?"

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Why?" She shakes her head out of her stupor. "Why are you a hitman? You're really smart, and really funny, and I think you'd be a great bartender, or like a cool IT Guy, you know?"

"Oh hey, you totally caught my vibe, sugar dumpling," Nong Man cackles. "I mean, Kimmie, I don't want to come off as a total weirdo when I say it — but I_ like_ my gig, okay?"

Kim purses her lips in frustration. "I don't believe you."

Nong Man laughs uncomfortably. It makes Kim connect with him more, she laughs like that a lot too. Maybe _she_ is the one being mean. "I like killing way too much to just stop doing it."

"What?" Kim asks dimly. "You like killing people?"

"Yeah!"

"...Why?"

"Um."

"Well?"

"I dunno. I don't really like talking about it."

Kim laughs so loudly she should maybe jam her fist into her mouth. That's wild. He doesn't want to talk about it — like, what? She starts to feel gross, like why did she willingly hire someone like that? It's not good.

"Eh whatever," Kim presses a hand to Nong Man's chest and really homes in on his beetle black eyes. "Come back to me when you can explain yourself, loser." Kim snickers again and cartoonishly jerks her foot backwards, pivoting it to her front like a pendulum and using that to motivate her walking away. She feels like the hero walking out of an Act Two film in a bonafide movefilm. So cool!

But Nong Man ain't quite done yet.

"Hang on man!" Nong Man shouts through the crowd. "I — "

Kim looks back, chuckling mischievously. How can she take this loser seriously now? Hahaha! "So you speak in third person now?"

For whatever reason, that seems to strike Nong Man at his very core. "Oh fuck you," Nong Man would have ruffled his feathers if he were a peacock. It's something about his springy hair — it totally has the shape of a peacock… Kim snickers and can't take any of this seriously.

The spark fades fast though and once again, she is surrounded by randos. She ends up slumping over at the bar. The bartender makes her a really froofy drink without her say-so and she feels awkward turning it down, because y'know — _she is underaged and could get someone arrested! _— so she takes a sip. After some time passes, the bartender catches the hint and trades her glass out for some water and asks if she wants anything from the buffet table.

"Do I really look that depressed?" she asks.

"Yes," he frowns. It's like some kind of fever dream.

She works up the confidence to get back up but just as she twists out of the stool she finds an excuse to sit back down.

"Hi B."

"Oh, shit, hey K!"

Last time she saw Bonnie, Kim was a hot mess. Crippled by depression, unnervingly skinny and pale, crying outside of bars because no one wanted to be her friend anymore, probably had a black eye from that time Shego hit her in front of everyone — was that before or after?

Kim wants to hide. She feels humiliated and now she is small and still unnervingly skinny, Bonnie is going to make fun of her for having such a flat chest and knobby knees. Already, the thought of what Bonnie could say makes Kim flinch, makes tears well up in her eyes.

She hates living like this. Kim wishes it were another life but it's not — she keeps fidgeting in the stool because she still can't get her eyes off Bonnie despite all that's transpired between them.

Ugh, how can she not? That tanned skin, short hair with perfectly curled ends… Kim wants to grab the brunette's silky curls from behind and bow her head to her lap. Aaaaaaaaaaaah. Kim's legs twitch inward and it makes Kim kinda spaz out for a second, and she accidentally looks down at the floor and sees Bonnie's legs. So lithe. She stares at them and freezes when the skin is finally concealed by something — God, that dress is short. Kim's mouth almost waters. She's _hungry._

Bonnie notices and folds one leg over the other and that cute little black dress hikes up higher. This girl is like a Goddess — when did Bonnie start holding Kim's hand? Bonnie is so warm, and it makes Kim's heart of ice melt.

Ah, how corny.

Fuck it, who cares! — Kim would kill everyone Nong Man apparently did if it meant getting this moment.

Bonnie asks the bartender for some drink that has a city name in it. It's like a foreign language to Kim. After the drink comfortably slides into Bonnie's waiting hands, the rich girl twirls the straw and looks over at Kim. "So you're in charge of all this?"

"Yeah," Kim smiles weakly. She isn't supposed to admit that, but she wants Bonnie to know how powerful she is here. "Why are you here, B? Interested in villainy? You did stab me in the stomach so you're off to a strong start."

Bonnie tries to shake that off but she can't. She actually seems to feel bad. Weird. Kim leans in and blushes. "Ah! That was supposed to be a joke! I'm sorry!"

Bonnie nods. "Um. Sorry — I'm still like — dealing with that. I'm really sorry, K. But yeah. Junior joined Hench, he's on that hit squad Ron is leading… um…" Bonnie checks Kim's expression, probably to make sure Kim is okay talking about Ron. "...Ron kinda creeps me out, Kim."

Kim nods.

Finally, Bonnie gives Kim a little smile. "And I don't want Junior near him, so I've been trying to see if I can convince Junior to be somewhere else… and maybe that's here? He didn't want to come to this though, so I've just been hanging out here."

"How come?"

"Uh — we had a fight, you know," Bonnie tries to pass it off as nothing but Kim knows — Kim sees — every little emotion manipulating the lines in Bonnie's face. There's such anguish living there — it would make for a great portrait. Kim wishes she could paint. Bonnie would be her Sistine Chapel.

"That sucks," Kim tries not to make eye contact. "But you're getting through it, right?"

"Not really," Bonnie sighs. "We're — I guess officially we're in an open relationship now. I mean — it's for the best — I don't actually like him that much — but you know — he's rich?" She laughs but stops herself. "That's not funny."

Kim nods. It really isn't. "Officially?"

"Yeah — I'm his beard."

Kim blinks. "Oh shit. Junior's gay?!"

"Shhhhhhh!" Bonnie clamps Kim's mouth shut with her fingers but in her lunge forward, she bursts into laughter. "Ha — yeah, he — he — he is — oh my God, Kim — that was the funniest reaction like _WHAT?! JUNIOR IS GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY?!_" She wipes some tears from her eyes and it's clear that Bonnie hasn't laughed in a while.

"Well — it's more like — it makes sense," Kim tries to sound rational but she's also laughing for some reason. "I was such a closet case and just now I'm finding out that everyone is gay."

"Really? Do tell."

"Yeah! Well — I'm pansexual. Hank's bi, Big Daddy is gay, I think Yori is bi. Shego is — was — gay. Junior's gay, you're gay — "

Bonnie's eyebrows almost shoot off her face.

" — sorry, was that presumptuous?" Kim asks.

Bonnie's hand twists to her mouth and her perfect teeth bite into her finger as tears stream from her eyes. What is this — deep melancholy? Delirious bliss? Should Kim kiss her or hold her tight? It's overwhelming.

"No, I'm gay," Bonnie says finally. "Probably — I've never been with a girl but when I'm with Junior I feel so — empty… _I liked kissing you though_."

Kim blinks, she almost forgot. They did kiss, back in Paris. That sounds romantic, but it was just to help Kim sneak into the bar. And Kim was in a suit, she remembers. She remembers feeling so queer afterwards, she remembers how Shego found that opening in Kim and took advantage of it and…

...but Kim liked kissing Bonnie too. She wants to kiss Bonnie again.

Kim scooches closer to her former rival and their legs touch. Kim wishes she was wearing a dress so it could be more sensual — but she's in her stupid Shego-lite outfit again. Black suit, crimson tie, ugh. Gay but like — she wants to be more femme around Bonnie.

"You look good in a suit by the way," Bonnie finishes her drink.

Oh nevermind.

Kim wants to be more butch around Bonnie.

"You look good in anything," Kim immediately blushes. No filter right now. Maybe she should just go with it.

Bonnie smiles because that's what she wanted to hear. Her hand comes up and grabs Kim's tie, pulling on it very gently and Kim leans in. Their lips are so close. She wishes her whole outfit just came apart at the seams right then and there.

Whoa, wait — isn't that getting a little ahead of herself?

Kim's fingers ride up Bonnie's jaw. Her groin touches Bonnie's knee and agh — this is so public. She peeks at the crowd and sees Nong Man in particular giving her a big thumbs up. Quickly, Nong Man grabs Hank out of the crowd and points it out.

Oh fuck you guys.

"Can I kiss you?" Kim whispers.

"Oh-be-vee Kim," Bonnie laughs and suddenly they're together.

Kim comes in hard and twists Bonnie's back into the bar, her hand almost arm-wrestling Bonnie's flat against the table. There's a tingling pinching all over her body and it's hard to — wow, Shego never let Kim do tongue, holy moly this is hot — Kim pulls back. "Hey."

Bonnie is breathless. "Hey."

"I'm really high right now," Kim says urgently.

"Yeah, I know. Your eyes are like bright red."

"Oh are they?" Kim pulls out a mirror and laughs at the sight of her crackled eyes. "Dang. Um. Anyways — what I'm trying to say is — "

" — you don't want to do this. It's okay. I get it. I wouldn't with me either — "

"No!" Kim grabs Bonnie's wrist and her whole body is rocking with her breath. She doesn't know why she's being so dramatic. "Um — it's just really nice and I kinda want to — "

" — oh. You do?"

Kim bites her lip. She feels terrible asking for it. "Please and thank you?"

"Okay, um…." Bonnie slides off the stool and pulls Kim along with her. "Do you have like an office here?"

Kim shakes her head aggressively. "Y-yeah, but — um, no, not here. I… I want to do this right."

Bonnie blinks a few times. "Oh, you never — "

Kim shakes her head, really hoping Bonnie doesn't make fun of her for this.

" — with Ron?"

Nodding.

"Oh shit, um — okay, yeah, yeah. I understand. Um. Wow. I'm letting you know that if you said this shit with any other girl they'd run and scream but — but for you?" Bonnie look into Kim's sparkling eyes and something about them sets her in place. "Let's do this."

"Mhm, one more for the road though."

They kiss again and it takes them about twenty more minutes before they actually leave.

* * *

"So — um — this is my place...obviously."

"Huh. You have a lot of cats."

"I do! They are — um — Shego's. Pretty much everything in Shego's will went to me. The cats are the best part though, isn't that right, Ariadne?"

**Kim's Apartment: San Francisco, California  
April 6, 2008: 11:24PM**

Kim scratches the chin of Ariadne, a white cat with black spots like a cow, and smiles as the cat's face scrunches up in unexpected delight. Her finger curls back in and she pats the feline on the head before standing back up. "I'm moving actually, if you couldn't tell by all the boxes."

"Do you know where to yet?" Bonnie says very quietly.

"No," Kim sighs. "I'm just trying to get away from Shego. Agh, sorry, I'm being too transparent — "

"You're fine, I vented enough about Junior as is."

"Oh, okay," Kim says, sort of pleased with herself that she did a good job at listening to someone else.

Bonnie takes Kim by the hand and guides her over to her own bed. "So you really haven't done this before?"

"Done what?" Kim blushes because that's a stupid question. "Oh, um….sorry, no. I'm a virgin. Is that okay?"

Bonnie freezes, eyebrow raised high. "Yeah, I'll go easy on you tiger…"

It's then that Kim notices where Bonnie's hands are — halfway down her blouse, buttons already separated. It's when Kim remembers who she is now and what happened to her, and how it's too late and Bonnie is going to make fun of her, maybe even beat her up for not being a cute cis girl.

"Bonnie, I need to tell you something…"

Bonnie looks up and finishes off the blouse, forcing it over Kim's shoulders. Her jaw drops.

Too late.

"Kim, what happened to your chest? Did you… like, get surgery or something?"

Kim looks off to the side. She still wears a bra out of habit — but her chest is tiny. The estrogen has started to make her skin softer, and she noticed recently that her nipples have started to puff out, but it's not what anyone would expect.

"I'm…" Kim bites her lip, it's getting really obvious, like Bonnie will figure it out soon, Kim should just say it. But she hates it, hates it so much. She feels tears welling up in her eyes and she knows she looks stupid. She knows Bonnie will laugh at her, and Kim will end up alone with her cats again. "...t-t-t-trans…"

"S-since when?" Bonnie gapes, touching Kim's chest so tentatively, as if afraid to go farther. "I've seen you… um, you know before, in the locker room."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Kim sighs. "I've been trying really hard Bonnie, I-I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you…"

Bonnie nods, then freezes, almost instantaneously panicking herself into a cold sweat. Is this some kind of trans panic, or is it —

— it's the scar, Kim's ill-treated scar she never took care of. Bonnie is staring at it, and oh my god this whole thing has been a mistake.

It hurt so bad — Kim remembers rolling around across the floor, knife sinking deeper and deeper into her as she tried to stave the pain off from attacking Ron. She remembers waking up days later, Professor Dementor standing on top of her, mid-process into the surgery to fix the wound.

"Pretend it's not there," Kim whispers and gently pinches her Bonnie's wrist, slowly dragging it up. Eventually, Bonnie's hand moves on its own and presses against Kim's for a moment and it feels nice. Then Bonnie swats Kim away and traces the mobster's abdomen with her fingers, sliding up until she finds Kim's hardly existent breast.

Bonnie's grip is tight at first and immediately, Kim remembers how Sensei had groped her in New Hampshire — and how powerless she felt.

"Um… K?"

Kim's eyes snap back open and she's really crying now. Her whole body burns. "Fuck. Sorry."

Bonnie's fingernail catches the tear. "It's okay. Did you — um — did someone hurt you there?"

Kim can't find the words, spit lines her lips, and she just nods. She feels Bonnie's fingers so tenderly touch her, clipping off the bra. She feels scared for a moment but something about Bonnie's hands are so reassuring, so loving…

Kim looks back to Bonnie with glassy eyes.

Bonnie briefly frowns. But it only lasts a moment. "I've been there too; it's not your fault. I'm here."

Bonnie handles Kim with such tenderness and care — it's therapeutic, it's nice, it's — wholesome? Kim's not sure if it's normal to moan at that — but she does, and then Bonnie's lips silence her.

It's strange. She wants to be thinking about other things — that would be more like her. To get distracted by her convoluted life but no — she — she likes this. Her bare back sinks into the soft bed and she feels all of her tightened joints and how much she ached the past few weeks amidst all this stress.

This… is nice.

The cats are shouting at her — _raow raow raow meow mrow raow_ — Kim she ignores them. She knows they are used to eating the second she walks through the door — whatever time that may be — but she really needs this right now.

Kim's cheeks glow bright red as she fishes her hand to her belt. _Clatter clatter clatter slip ker-thunk._ She unzips and unbuttons and at this point, Bonnie realizes what's going on and helps her slip out of the pants — the underwear is left behind, and Kim tries to tug it away before Bonnie can see it.

It's these stupid Pandaroo panties Shego made Kim wear, Kim doesn't want Bonnie to know anymore about the abuse Shego put her through. Fortunately, Bonnie doesn't seem to notice what is on the underwear, and helps peel it off.

By then, it feels okay that she is trans.

Kim knows she is erect, which is still weird for her — but she still feels like a girl, and she knows Bonnie knows she's a girl. The penis doesn't change anything, though still, Kim realizes very suddenly that she is very naked and a little scared.

Bonnie takes Kim by the shaft, gently stroking it — and a spasm of pleasure slams Kim's back to the headboard — it's hard to stay still as the fingers slide up and down. She twitches — there's too much going through her mind — but a warm hand comes down to her thigh and sinks into the soft pink flesh.

Kim's back arches away from the headboard and she traces Bonnie's strong jaw. The girl looks up at her and there's a weird anxiety they both share. Kim tries to say something, probably something dumb like_ thank you_, but then — she, uh — she — oh wow. Is that how babies are made? she wonders.

It happens very fast that her loins erupt in pleasure — and her moan is so loud and sudden — the girls can't help but laugh because our bodies are silly.

They try kissing but it's impossible to focus after Kim's abrupt scream and suddenly they're both crying — in a happy way — and then they actually kiss. Much rougher than before, each prowler hungry. They want everything.

But it's at this moment that one of Kim's cats, the gray one, her little panther, leaps onto the bed, paws kneading against Kim's stomach, claws prickling her skin. She tries to guide the cat away but then he shouts at her. A raspy meow — the one he gets after meowing too much — and also when he really needs a drink of water.

"You should feed them," Bonnie says softly. "I need to use the bathroom anyways."

So they break.

It takes two minutes of cats jumping on top of her naked body for Kim to realize she actually probably should get up — especially before Bonnie comes out. The faster they can get back to work — oh, Kim. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Sex is scary. It scared her in high school. Ron was scared too. They tried a few things but they couldn't manage following through. Sex is this weird thing — because in moments like this — a hook-up — it feels impersonal. But already Kim can tell that it's some heightened form of communication. Maybe that's why her and Ron were scared. And why her heart is racing now that Bonnie's gone.

Did she upset her? Kim only received — she made no moves for the girl herself — she needs to pay her back. Ugh. Are those healthy thoughts? She just wants to make Bonnie happy.

Either way, she stands up, grabs the cat food, and has to dash around the room fast. They all steal food from each other and Kim is a bit of a control freak — so she has six different bowls all in different spots. But if she doesn't feed them fast enough, they all go for the same bowl and then she needs to start picking up the excited, writhing cats who will do anything to break free and go back to eating.

But after a minute, the cats are all eating separately and everyone's happy.

_Beep beep de-beep!_

A jolt to her heart — it's not her Kimmunicator but her smartphone. It feels kinda hokey having the same ringtone as her old one. The idea was to make a lot of friends and get so many _beep beep de-beeps!_ that she would normalize it — but Kim has no friends therefore no texts so it just makes her depressed to hear it.

She sits on her bed and checks her phone.

Yori:  
_Hey Kim. I really appreciate you checking in with me so often the past few weeks and I'm sorry that I haven't responded. I'm either saddled with Ron or Sensei, and I don't know — I know what our plan is but I feel like gross thinking about you when I'm around them. I really hope you understand. I'm sorry I hit you so hard at the oil platform, that was probably triggering for you, huh? I have come to terms with what you've done, and you're my friend. If you'll have me._

Kim smiles a little — she really likes Yori. She understands Yori, even though their interactions have been brief.

Her face scrunches up in concentration and then the toilet flushes. It's now or never Kim. Her fingers punch at the keypad like a journalist on deadline.

Kim:  
_I understand, things are weird right now. I really want to see you soon, I know it's not easy for either of us, but I like you a lot Yori. Um, and I know that's not the best thing to communicate through text, but we never get to be around each other in moments where we can actually talk. I like you. Can we hang out soon? Miss ya._

She proofreads several times over and then sends it. Meanwhile, it sounds like Bonnie's washing her hands. Kim doesn't really know what to do with herself so she just kinda stares into blank space — until she realizes she's looking in the mirror.

She's naked — obviously — but it's weird because she hasn't seen herself like this in forever. Last time she looked — well, it was probably back when she was in high school. She's just been too busy to look lately, and now….

The scar on her stomach is uglier than ever before, darker in color and probably infected. There's so many cuts from where the Yamanouchi ninjas sliced her. Mostly on her legs and sides. Her right eye is recovering from the bruise slowly but surely, but she's not looking good. Finger marks are embedded in her throat from where Ron choked her, and if you look even closer there's a scar from when Kim ran Yori's katana against her throat to scare Ron away. Her wrists are bandaged up from all the damage she herself has done to them. Her kneecap is purple and yellow and she still has to deal with that dumb limp. Every step she drags herself through makes her think of Ron.

While the gash on her forehead from her fight with Yori has healed, there's still an indent up there. She's still missing two teeth and — she's getting emotional again. While her arms are still well-toned, it's clear that she's lost a lot of weight. She's just not as big as she used to be, and while her color's returning, her skin is still upsettingly pale. How could anyone love her?

A _Beep beep de-beep! _from her phone. She immediately looks back down and sees a ... indicating that Yori is typing. The … rocks up and down like a wave and after several tense seconds disappears. Five more seconds and it returns. … … … … nothing. Kim waits and waits and waits and waits and waits and —

— the bathroom door opens and Bonnie is — whoa.

Bonnie is — w-wow. Is it okay to stare when you're having sex with someone? Or is that weird?

Bonnie laughs and Kim doesn't know why. She looks at her crotch and guesses, _Oh, that's why._ She tries to cover the erection with her hands but it's too big for that.

"I can help you with that," Bonnie purrs.

Bonnie gets close and guides Kim back to the bed. It's awkward because Kim's arms are nervously clutched to her chest and she doesn't move them in time to touch Bonnie back — so she just stays stiff as a board the whole time.

She falls back on the bed and Bonnie climbs over her — picking up where they left off. But Kim doesn't feel anything — her eyes are wide as dinner plates.

Bonnie isn't as strong as Kim but is definitely healthier — there's fat on her body where there's supposed to be. Like in her hips and thighs, even a cute little fold in her stomach and — oh God her breasts. Perky. Kim feels flat-chested when mounted below her. Like a little girl. Well, boy really. She doesn't have hips anymore — she's this worthless, sexless — she's crying again. Stop it. She slaps herself — really hard too — it's a little weird — but she does it.

Bonnie raises an eyebrow and all of a sudden she's on bottom and Kim is on top. A blanket flips off the bed from the sudden show of force, and Kim's dick goes right for Bonnie's vagina. It feels so weird to be inside someone — she wishes she did this with Ron, it's really not so bad. Kind of — no — it's bad. This is scary. She tries to touch Bonnie's breasts but the tanned girl boosts herself up and kisses her. They tumble together in the sheets and it's good that their eyes are closed because Kim is crying again.

Kim doesn't deserve this. She has killed people now, she is a monster — okay now she's sobbing.

"Ow!" Bonnie yelps as Kim's finger inadvertently presses too hard on the girl's innards. They momentarily break apart and Bonnie for a second looks pissed — but then sees what Kim is going through.

"I'm sorry," Kim chokes. "I'm so fucking sorry Bonnie…"

If this were high school — Bonnie would laugh at this stupid girl but in this moment — there's a weird symmetry because even though she doesn't like talking about it, Bonnie's sad too. And as hungry as she is for Kim's body — her arms reach out and wrap around Kim's back, pulling her in. Their bodies press together and Bonnie can feel Kim's hands very tentatively wrapping around her back. Legs twist against each other and intertwine and the girls can feel the other's beating chests. Both of them feel cold — but their bodies aren't and gift that warmth to the other.

The tears stop flowing. The blanket comes over them and Kim once again touches Bonnie's chin, tilting her face to meet her own. She wants to say something stupid like _I love you_ but knows that's a lie, and also super weird. So she bites her lip and thinks for a second before — oh wow, Kim never thought she'd be into biting but here we go — Bonnie's nibbling her neck.

"Hey," Kim says really weakly and Bonnie pulls back, letting her face fall against the pillow. "Um — I know this is a one time thing — and um — I was just wondering — were you planning on staying the morning?"

"Um," Bonnie bites her lip and shrugs. "Depends on how late we're up. I have to be in Vegas tomorrow afternoon."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Vegas? Oh — Hench?"

"Mm," Bonnie nods. "Junior has a meeting with him and says he'll look better if I'm with him…"

Bonnie wouldn't have said that if she didn't want Kim to make her an offer.

"Fuck Hench!" Kim laughs. It feels good to say fuck in front of someone who doesn't expect her to drop such a fowl word. Juvenile as that may be. Freshman year of college status really. "He's an opportunist. You guys should work for me. I'll actually respect you and give you a job."

"Yeah?" Bonnie gets a little closer, their hands landing on each other's shoulders. "What do you need?"

"Marketing," Kim says quickly. The words click and make sense as they fly out her mouth. "I need someone to focus on giving us good PR. I'm a radical activist you know? It's a really hard job but you'd be great at it. And um — Junior can be one of our contract guys. We need more muscle."

"I like that," Bonnie grins. "And what exactly did you want from me tomorrow?"

"Um — this is gonna sound really lame — but — "

_Beep beep de-beep!_

Kim looks away for a second and sees that it's a message from Yori. "Hold on," she boosts herself up just enough to read the block of text before it vanishes from the home screen. She catches the words _I would like that a lot Kim _and her heart starts thumping. She comes back down and looks at Bonnie. "I want to hang out with you. And be your friend. My best friend right now is a mobster named Rhino, and he's really sweet, but I could use two friends."

Bonnie seems a little nervous. "Can I be honest?"

"Go for it."

"I feel like — if you're going to hire me — it'd be weird if we were — um — you want to be friends with benefits right?"

"I don't know," Kim shrugs. "I mean — not really. I like this a lot but — I'm confused, to be honest. I'm mostly lonely." She touches her wrist, fingers touching the bandages. She's happy Bonnie hasn't asked yet. Hopes she won't.

"I'm sorry, Kim," Bonnie frowns. "Um… thank you for letting me in this much, you must be scared, huh?"

Kim flinches. Bonnie is probably talking about her being trans now.

"Y-yeah," Kim frowns. "But group is helping me get through it."

"Group?"

"Um — yeah — g-group therapy."

"Oh shit," Bonnie pushes an elbow against the pillow. "Like a survivor's group?"

"No — um — " Quick judgment call. Are they going to have any more sex? Eh. Not likely. Hanging out in the nude talking to people kinda intimately is really nice. She wishes she got a chance to do this with Ron. Well — there were chances. She was just too depressed to take them. " — self-harmers' recovery."

"Oh."

"It's okay, it's helping. But um — I want to be friends." Kim's thighs press against Bonnie's and her pubic hairs mesh with Bonnie's and it's scary but also a really strong wave of feeling ripples through Kim's body and now she's hungry again. Woops.

Bonnie's actually giving her for real bedroom eyes now — which makes sense — they're in a bedroom — and she comes in for a kiss. It's different though — like — there's a tenderness to it that tells Kim she's a treasure. It feels nice and she wants Bonnie to feel the same way — so she mirrors the affection.

Before they did it for themselves — this was like — making a promise. I'll give you every scrap of attention I have if you can take it and heal me back. Something like that. It feels romantic. Kind of. But Kim is fucked up and Bonnie kinda seems to be too, and for one night, maybe it can help.

Still, Kim feels sad for a second because she really did want to talk more but — it's okay.

Sometimes actions speak louder than words.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _This is one of my favorite chapters from the old I'm Scared Too. For those who don't know, there was a version for a long time that went in a very different direction but I decide to take most of it offline and try again with something I was really passionate about. The result is this. In the original version, Kim wasn't trans (yet) and this was Nong Man's introduction._

_I've been confused lately because I know this story is good and it feels wrong sometimes that it's just fanfiction. Like maybe I should try to turn it a book. It's a weird place to be because it's a microcosm of this - "What is art to me?" crisis where I'm split between professionalism and doing things that make me feel happy. I also feel upset when I think of how this story will eventually end - I don't want that either. I love this so much. _

_We'll see what happens - thanks for reading. Definitely anticipating getting Chapter 13 off the ground this week, maybe 14 too. We'll see._


	13. Kim and Her Goons Go To Da LGBT Center

CW: references to past self-harm, gender dysphoria

* * *

"I don't know — Mr. Brotherson, I appreciate your time and diligence towards this process, but I don't know if your son — "

"_Daughter,_" Big Daddy corrects crossly.

The realtor backs down fast, eying Kim carefully. " — daughter, whatever, is ready for their own apartment."

**CAP Properties: Foster City, California  
April 15, 2008: 11:09AM**

Kim is having one of her bad days today — she can already tell. Getting misgendered really hurts, and it happens all the time. Especially with this stunt, that she thought was kinda funny, but now it just makes her want to cry.

She wasn't allowed to shave or anything — so she has a ratty mustache and her hair is all dry and tangled and ugly. She was asked to wear a sleeveless dress to this endeavor — so that her broad shoulders could be on display. Originally, the plan was to just have her pretend to be a boy but it lead to her having a complete psychotic break. So she needs to look _more_ trans as a result. Because she can't be Kim Possible here; Kim Possible has no fucking money or job, and can't get her own apartment. So she has to be someone else — since her parents can't cosign seeing how she's estranged from them and everything.

So her fake deadname is Guy Brotherson.

It doesn't help that Big Daddy's actual name is Big Daddy Brotherson.

But things start to shift when he drops his pudgy hand onto her shoulder, and clutches her so reassuringly. She looks up to him, his hands squeezing her knees, and he_ smiles _at her. Not even as part of roleplay, but because he… he is actually kind of acting like a second father to her. It makes her giggle like a toddler, this is what she wanted out of this. That's why she went along with this hair-brained scheme.

Kim looks back to the realtor. "You promised!" She drags Big Daddy in by the bicep, letting her natural, crackly tenor project. "You told him we were good, why are you backing out now?"

The realtor crosses his arms and leans back, focusing so intently on her face. It makes her nervous — what if he sees through her disguise?

"You don't even look like you're 18, kid," the realtor scratches his neck. "I was thinking 12. Do you even know how to shave?"

Kim _does _look really scrawny for her fake age, even her new real age. She's kinda surprised Bonnie did have sex with her because of that. What with the cuts on her upper lip from the shaving mishaps, scruff shadow, and everything.

"It's the puberty blockers," Kim says softly. "Um, and my daddy's short too."

The realtor raises his eyebrow; maybe Kim is over-justifying.

Kim looks to Big Daddy for help and she notices how in shock he is, how red in the face he is, from her calling him _daddy_. It takes him quite the stretch of time to recover. He pulls Kim closer and she feels really warm. "Miriam has been interviewing to get a barista job — " he shoots Kim a look telling her, "_You're going to have to get a job to make this work,"_ and continues, " — and I obviously have the money as you know."

Doesn't look like that did it.

Big Daddy sighs. "You are overcharging, if I can be candid — and the reason you have been in the market for so long is because of that. I believe my daughter and I to be suckers enough to pay your ridiculous fees. Now let my kid sign the lease."

Ten minutes Kim and Big Daddy walk away. The moment they are for sure out of earshot she elbows him in the gut. He looks down at her curiously and she snickers. He smirks back and offers a cackle, and they laugh the rest of the way to the car.

It's funny.

* * *

Seeing Kim's studio all boxed up is weird — well, maybe not to her, she's already disassociated from everything, but for her cats, definitely.

**Kim's Soon-To-Be Ex-Apartment: San Francisco, California  
April 15, 2008: 11:48AM**

It's chaos when she arrives home with her moving crew of goons in tow. Her cats are hopping all over the stacks of boxes with the widest eyes, stressed out by the rapid fire changes. It makes Kim feel sad. Edgar, her trustiest cat, knocks his head into her ankle and looks at her with a somehow patient anxiety. He whines at her, so she picks him up, cradling him like a baby. His little paws land on her chest and that seems to make him feel better. He purrs and she pulls him closer, it's good for her to take these quiet moments.

Pulling her face away from Edgar's tummy, Kim eyes the room."So right side is for that youth center I texted you all the address of, and everything else is for me."

"Thaaaaat's — " Hank shuts his mouth and feigns counting everything on the right side. " — practically nothing that you are taking Kim."

"Well, the whole point of this to get away from Shego, right?" Kim sighs. Suddenly, she winces. Nong Man, Mugsy, Rhino, and Vinny all marched in as it's about to scare the poop out of Edgar. His claws dig into Kim's chest and she regrets not trimming them when she was supposed to last night.

"Hey Mugsy, did you grew up in a barn? Shut the door!" Kim growls, knowing some blood has already been drawn.

Mugsy rolls his eyes and slams the door behind him. "Yeah, whateva, _Mom_."

"Hehehe," Vinny chortles, elbowing Mugsy in the ribs. "Dat's some funny ass shit, Mugsy."

Kim rolls her eyes. "Rhino, can you help round up the cats?"

"Already on it, KP," Rhino cheers, already coaxing two cats into their respective pet carriers. For such a big guy, he is definitely something of a cat whisperer.

Hank needles his hips with his fists. "I'm still not buying this arrangement."

Big Daddy struts in, dressed down into a polo and khakis. "I'm concerned about you giving away your bed."

Hank raises his eyebrow. "Why would Kim get rid of her bed?"

"Honey, it's on the right side of the room." Big Daddy chimes, and both heads turn to Kim who blushes.

"Y-yeah," Kim sighs, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She knew this would come up. "I'll be fine, I can just get scrappy and live off the floor you know."

Big Daddy crosses his arms. "No kid of mine sleeps on the floor."

!

He said it! Big Daddy called her his _kid_.

Hank raises an eyebrow at that and offers a limp list, drawling, "Would you take a small loan from one of us maybe?"

"No," Kim shakes her head, She's very serious about it. "You already promised the realtor I'd get a job, so why not we do that?"

"...because you're supposed to be working to take over the world?" Hank is not pleased.

"Oh, give her a break," Big Daddy laughs, patting Hank on the back aggressively. "Kim, honey, how much money do you have on you?"

"Um," Kim grinds her teeth; she counted it all out across the floor last night. Thirty two dollars and seventy six cents. She already checked out the local Armenian market near her new apartment and she knows her groceries for this week will be twenty three thirteen. "If you're that insistent, buy me an inflatable on the way down. But keep the receipt — I'm gonna pay you back."

"God, I'll just Venmo you if it's that much of a game changer," Big Daddy grins, taking Hank by the hand and guiding him away.

It's all moving so fast — well, maybe not. She's known this was happening for a long time, a month now, more than that. But now it's real, she won't ever be sad in this awful room again. Weirdly enough, she's going to kinda miss it.

An hour later, the move is finished right quick. But Kim isn't quite ready to go yet — so she comes up with the excuse that it would be mean for them to make her cats endure more car rides than they need to. So the gang heads out without her and tells her they'll be back within the hour to deliver her to her new digs.

Wedged in a dusty corner with no furniture, Kim feels sort of empty. She lets Edgar out to play, but he ends up just kneading her lap and falling asleep. Kim sighs. She wants this to mean something, her leaving. She wants the phantom Shego in her head to scream in agony at her failure of keeping Kim enclosed.

"Hey, I don't wanna interrupt your quiet time, but I don't think you should be alone right now."

Kim looks up and sees Rhino anxiously filling up the door frame. He steps forward, a little sheepish. He scratches his bald head, pointedly avoiding eye contact. "You thinkin' 'bout Shego?"

Kim sighs through her nose. "Yeah. This must be weird for you guys, huh? You were her friend, right?"

Rhino shrugs. "Not me so much, she kinda treated a lot of us low rung guys like shit, but I know the others liked her a lot. She was cool to party with."

They don't walk about it much within their circles, but Hank and Big Daddy were definitely aware of what was happening to Kim behind-the-scenes and they sort of just… let it happen. Kim tries not to think about it because what's the point in going into that? It's over. Shego's dead, and Kim befriended everyone who passively watched her wither.

"Rhino, were you there when Shego started?" Kim asks suddenly.

Rhino laughs to himself, and scooches next to Kim; he doesn't need to sit that close, but she doesn't mind. "Yeah, she kinda showed up outta nowhere, KP. It was nuts. Hank didn't trust her at all, and kept having guys like me and Nong Man tail her.

"But… well, it makes sense now — it musta been a li'l towards the end o' July when the new Big "Big" came in, and he really wanted there to be a Numbah Two."

"Hank wanted the job, I bet," Kim sighs, thinking of what that rivalry must have been like.

"Yeah," Rhino sighs. "But Hank wasn't killin' and Shego was — Shego killed a lotta people really fast. So it kinda made sense for her to be Numbah Two…"

Kim drops her head. "Do you think Shego killed before that?"

Rhino shrugs, his eyes all glassy.

"Rhino — y-you — you haven't killed before have you?"

Rhino looks at her. "Well — mebbe I've been part of some stuff like that, yeah. Nevah done it myself, but you know, well, I was your getaway driver, remember?"

Right. Kim has killed people. She's killed _a lot _of people, and she knows Shego would have loved to have been there to see it go down, to see her precious Princess go dark finally.

Kim gets up suddenly, nearly sprinting to the door. She freezes, door on the handle and eyes the dusty room. Fuck. There's still a little bit of work to do. Then again, it's not her security deposit, and it's not even her own credit history that is going into the next apartment.

"Rhino, let's go, I don't want to be here anymore," Kim sighs.

Rhino giddily jumps to his feet, hoisting all the cat carriers over his shoulders. "I think that's a good call, KP. Wanna bring your cats to that park down da street?"

Kim hesitates. She wants to, getting some sun would be nice. But none of her cats are leash trained, and Ariadne always hisses at dogs. Even pitbulls, she don't care. She just goes for it.

"I think waiting in the lobby should be enough…" Kim frowns, brows knitting a little frustration wrinkle as she tries to figure this one out.

Rhino pats her on the back. "Hey, don't ovathink it, you're doing just fine, KP."

For some reason, that catches her off-guard. She looks up at Rhino, and he's just so happy with her. Maybe he's right, maybe she is showing enough courage just stepping out of this fucking room. Maybe that's okay for the moment. It's hard, but she lets herself break into a smile. "Yeah, you're totally right!"

* * *

"So what are your pronouns?" Kim asks.

Kim has three roommates, but only one of them is home right now; the other two both have two day jobs, or rather, they all do, it's just Dom isn't on call right now. Or have a shift, or whatever you call it.

Dom seems cool though. "I use they/them/their. What about you?"

**Kim's New Apartment: Foster City, California  
April 15, 2008: 2:19PM**

Dom is black and some kind of nonbinary. They are nineteen and work two jobs: one at a Bueno Nacho and the other at some department store. They seem really genuine. Then Kim remembers that she was just asked a question.

"She/her/hers," Kim chirps.

Pronouns are really complicated for her — on one hand, she does think she might be non-binary. But on another hand, this has been the absolute worst way to figure that out and a nice _she/her/hers_ is enough to counteract a lot of her own dysphoria and the occasional misgendering she gets.

"You have a lot of cats," Dom sighs, eying the six carriers lined up against the wall.

"Oh, yeah, um, my ex was a little older than me, and passed them all onto me," Kim says automatically. It's weird saying _ex_ instead of _Shego. _But Kim needs to not be Kim Possible here. She's Miriam Brotherson (socially) and Guy Brotherson (legally.)

"That's a lot of cats to pass onto someone young as you are," Dom says, pouring a glass of water for Kim which is really nice of her—them, shit. They use they/them, Kim, they/them. You're trans you fucking loser — how do you not get this?

"Well she wasn't very nice," Kim responds, maybe a little too cold. "She beat me up a lot and… sorry, I'm oversharing. I'm really excited to live here with you guys — "

Dom looks at Kim very sympathetically, and it almost makes Kim feel sort of guilty for some reason. Which is definitely not the impression they wanted to leave with them. Kim opens her mouth to say something else when _BANG!_ goes the door as Vinny's foot nearly sends it off its hinges.

"'Ey Mimbo, I gotta take a fucking leak, ya get?" Vinny whines, tracking mud across the floor.

Kim sighs. "Vinny, could you not — "

"I gotta take a 10-2 if ya catch my drift," Mugsy rasps, tailing in behind Vinny. He looks at Kim seriously. "That's film code for poopin'."

Kim looks up to Dom with pleading eyes; this is _so_ not a good look.

Then of course Rhino follows. You know, Rhino, the really tall one with a handlebar mustache and tough guy bald head look. Who wears leather trench-coats and has arms that could probably crack a coconut. He stomps into the room in a tizzy. "Gee, sorry about dat, hey Dom, where ya keepin' the cleaning supplies? I'll clean up da mud."

Dom jerks a thumb at the closet down the hall, their eyes very suspicious. They look down at Kim, and it makes her skin crawl.

She really doesn't want to mess this up.

…

Kim's room is really small, but that's okay because she's small herself and doesn't own anything. Her inflatable mattress gets shoved into one of the corners, and to make sure the cats don't pop it with their claws, Kim gives every one of her boys a nice trim, and sprays her bed with vinegar so that they don't mess with it.

Beyond that, she doesn't own much else. Just a laptop and that corkboard of hers, the one that tracks Kim Possible's life along with Big "Big" Daddy. Though that might look really weird if Dom or one of them comes in… what a conversation that would be.

Kim sighs.

"Hey Kim, where's your pill tray?" Rhino asks.

Kim looks over to him with dim recognition. "What?"

Rhino gestures at the myriad of pill bottles she has. "Don't tell me you don't have one."

"I don't?" Kim raises an eyebrow. Oh-bee-vee, she hasn't been to a doctor because the world doesn't need to know Kim Possible is trans — granted, Kim _does _have a fake identity now… wait. If Kim has a fake identity, then… oh no.

Rhino looks at Kim kinda mischievously.

Oh shit, he just realized the same thing she did…

"Yer comin' to the LGBT Center with me tomorrah kiddo," Rhino laughs, clapping Kim on the back. "Hey, take it easy tonight and I'll pick you up at 11, okay?"

"Okay," Kim grunts. Dammit. That did not go the way she wanted. Ain't it just the way.

A few minutes later, Kim realizes she spaced out by accident. She needs to go do something. Maybe she should go for a walk? Get some groceries? Check out the local library, it's only a mile walk away… maybe she could take a bus just to get the feel of it? It's so weird, living alone like this.

So far away from her friends at the Bermuda Triangle… she's had such constant supervision and now — damn. For starters, Kim slips out the door, making sure none of her cats escape. For the first few days, they're going to need to get used to her room before she can let them out to explore the rest of the apartment. That's a recipe for them all getting scared stiff and she doesn't want that.

Kim starts off by knocking on Dom's door; she doesn't know what the wi-fi is and she kinda needs it. But Dom doesn't answer. Should she knock again? Is that pushy? Is Dom mad at Kim or something? Kim's fist hovers beyond the door frame, knuckle so close to the oak. All she needs to do is rap it one more time.

But that might be rude. Maybe this isn't the warm household Kim thought it was going to be.

Not sure what to do next, Kim takes a shower. Mostly to get her face wet enough with warm water that she can shave the mustache clean off.

It feels so good when the razor slides across her upper lip, so cleanly snatching the ugly hairs. Though the moment her skin is clear, Kim does get a spike of anxiety.

The mustache was part of her cover; is it okay for her not to have it? Mustache Kim lives in the apartment and is pretending to be a 18 year old trans kid, non-mustache Kim is Big "Big" Daddy. Does Kim need a fake mustache now? How is she supposed to do both? Ooh boy, this is ill-conceived.

Worse yet, Kim thinks the bare face actually makes her feel worse. The mustache is absurd; Kim can look at it and not see herself, which is definitely a certain kind of melancholy, but not nearly as bad as looking for a Kim that is _kind of _staring back at her. So close to the real thing, but _just_ different enough.

Dammit. Well that wasn't refreshing as it was supposed to be. Still upset, and still not sure what to do with herself, Kim wanders out into the living room to see what's her, and investigates for a potential spot to put the litter box.

Then there's this loud crashing and she looks down to see her cats stampede past her ankles, bodies jerking up and down like horses. One cat gets scared and digs his claws into the ground before running back into the safety of Kim's bedroom… wait, which means — oh shit, she forgot to close her door. That's not good.

Kim tries scooping up all of her cats, but they all start kicking since they're so antsy and she's forced to put them back down. This sucks, Kim sucks.

Way too stressed out to deal with anymore, Kim seeks out the Wi-Fi and does manage to find it; it's pasted on the wall in a post-it note. She brings her laptop out to hastily copy it down, and it does work so that's nice.

Oof, Kim is already feeling a little winded. She decides to take a seat on the couch, but then she hesitates: Is it okay for her to sit there? It's not her couch. It's Dom's — or somebody's. And it doesn't feel like they like Kim, so maybe it'll make them upset to see her sitting on it.

So Kim gets up, and stands in front of the couch typing. Agh, that's even worse. What if they are okay with her using the couch? Now it looks like Kim doesn't trust them. Fuck.

Dom steps out of their room. Great, at the absolute worst moment, they come out.

No, Kim, don't think like that — don't be resentful.

Dom lowers their headphones — likely the thing that prevented them from hearing Kim's knocking — and cracks a grin at their awkward stance next to the couch. "You alright?"

"Just a little nervous," Kim admits, sitting down. "I haven't lived with other people before." _And maybe this isn't the best timing._

Immediately, Edgar jumps on Kim's lap, claws out and head held high. He's sniffing wildly with pure black eyes of excitement. He leaps and vaults across the room, resuming his stampede.

"Sorry about — " Kim starts, but freezes when Dom laughs.

Why is Dom laughing?!

"Forgot to shut your door?" Dom asks, "It's cool — um, I just wanted to talk to you about those men you let into our apartment."

Kim leans in. "Oh?"

"They were kinda… gangster-y," Dom sighs, apparently not happy with the label or something.

"I have a weird family," Kim rolls her eyes. _I'm also their boss, God I hope I don't bring anything bad to your doorstep._ "Sorry some of them were so rude, I asked them not to barge in like that…"

"Well at least they're supportive of you, right?" Kim notices that this time Dom catches on Kim's bare lip with some dim recognition. At least Kim's really short and scrawny now, to a point where it dismisses any kind of relation to _the_ Kim Possible.

"Yeah," Kim rasps. "I'm really thankful."

Dom takes a seat on the coffee table; good to know that's acceptable around these parts. "By the way, where did you park? We only have one spot, so I was hoping to work out some kind of rotation schedule."

"Oh I take the bus."

"Oh damn, you must be patient as Hell then, yeah?"

Kim furrows her brow. "It's not _that_ bad, I've been taking it for a few months now."

"Huh?" Dom tilts their head to the side. "I thought you moved here directly from San Francisco?"

"Oh I did, I just — " _spent several weeks here staging a major non-violent direct action and in the meantime found a support group for girls who self-harm. _" — have some friends out here."

Dom nods wistfully. "Okay, cool. Well, I'll leave you to it, Mimbo."

Agh, right. They think her name is Miriam. She better get used to that too.

…

This is still so far away from what she wanted.

* * *

One immediate disadvantage to the move is that there is no LGBT Center in Foster City, and while access to HRT is possible, maybe it's not the best choice for a trans girl living pretty recklessly.

Hence why Kim sits in the backseat of Rhino's car. She figured she was going to at least get to sit up front with nope, Mugsy and Vinny decided to tag along; don't they have something better to be doing?

Ah well, it doesn't matter.

**Rhino's Car: On the Road to San Francisco, California  
April 16, 2008: 11:20AM**

"I don' get it, KP," Vinny snaps at some point. He stares daggers at Kim who reluctantly has to pull her eyes off of the passing Joshua Trees.

Rhino's eyes flit to the rear view mirror. "'Ey, I don't wanna hear any fightin' going on."

"But pal," Vinny gestures at Kim with his fingerless gloves. "'Dis kid is being ridiculous. Why ain't ya excited? Ya finally gettin' your fackin' hands on da 'mones."

Kim raises an eyebrow, with all the sarcastic charm of her former self. "_'Mones_?"

"Yeh, dat's what they're fackin' called," Vinny pouts.

Mugsy twists back, looking at Vinny glumly. "Whaddafuck you talkin' about kid?"

"'Mones!" Vinny moans.

Mugsy shakes his head and points a fat finger at his finger. "'Dats not it, pal. Imma thinkin' they're estradiol and spironolactone, A.K.A, HRT. Hormone replacement thera—"

"We get it," Kim sighs. "You know your shit."

"Damn straight I do," Mugsy says without skipping a beat. "C'mon Vinny, Kim can move at her own pace."

"Whaddafuck," Vinny sighs. "Are youze mugs forgetting I'm trans or somethin'?"

Kim blinks. What?

Wait WHAT?!

Rhino and Mugsy groan in a chorus.

"Ah shit, Vinny, sorry I did forget," Mugsy pinches the bridge of his nose. "Sorry man."

Kim almost unbuckles so she can lean more into the conversation. "HOW DID YOU FORGET?!" she ends up yelling.

"Well, in our defense," Rhino sighs, seemingly so frustrated. "Vinny does tend to emphasize the _ai-_ sound in trans, methinks the reason me an' Mugsy keep forgettin' is because we associate Vinny with _trains._"

"I fuckin' love trains!" Vinny blurts out. "But yeah, man. I'm mothafuckin' trans ya palookas."

Oh shit. This is nuts. Kim honestly had no idea, and here she was starting to think her queer-dar was getting quite adept. "When did you transition?" she asks.

"Uh," Vinny pushes back his fedora to scratch his bald head. "I was like seventeen or somefink. Buyin' my 'mones from other trans fuckers like me, doin' whateva dosages ya know how it is, KP. Imma happy for you." He wraps an arm around her thin shoulders and drags her in to a loose embrace. She actually unbuckles her seatbelt — "_WHOA! KP, dat's dangerous!_" — which Rhino, ever the mother hen, calls out immediately, and slides her hips over the middle seat and takes that seatbelt so she can get all warm and cozy with Vinny. He's kinda like a big brother to her. Mugsy too.

Rhino's more like an uncle, or auntie maybe.

"Youze been very, very unhealthy Kim," Vinny tutts. "But youze making a good fackin' decision today comin' wit' us."

"Wow," Kim rasps. "So you're queer… like everyone in my life is queer now."

Kim looks to the front seat — she already knows Rhino's pansexual. He's doing this long distance thing with this mob boss over in New York named Salvatori who apparently does great stand-up on Saturdays. But… Mugsy?

"Aw well, I don' think about it too much," Mugsy sighs, apparently picking up what Kim is throwing down. "I've sucked a few dicks here and dere, I guess."

"Mugsy, dat's vulgar," Rhino groans.

"What? Haven't we all sucked a dick in this car?" Mugsy yells, super agitated for some reason.

There's a silence — meaning yeah, they're all dick suckers. Except…

"I haven't," Kim sighs. "Ron and I never — "

"Don' worry about it, KP," Rhino laughs. "You'll have yer time one day, I tell ya."

Kim's face goes so red. "I'm nineteen!"

Mugsy laughs at that one and then remembers — she is nineteen. She's just little now, a total mockery of who she is supposed to be. Vinny saves the moment from going too dark by pulling her closer. "'Ey kiddo, it's s'alright, okay?"

Mugsy reaches out too and takes Kim's hand, squeezing it. It still amazes her how nice these guys are to her. She doesn't even feel like the crime lord she actually is. It's all so… weird.

"Th-thanks," Kim stutters. "And I have had sex by the way."

All the goons reel back and scream it in unison, "WHOA!"

Kim grins. "Yeah, yeah, and not with Ron either." She even sticks her nose in the air.

"Who?" Vinny asks, flashing his razor sharp buck teeth. "Awwww shit, it's Yori, innit?"

"Nope," Kim is just so pleased with herself. "It was Bonnie."

"No kidding," Rhino says. "Bonnie in Marketing?"

"The same."

"Damn," is all Rhino can muster. Totes speechless.

Suddenly, Vinny nudges Kim in the ribs with his elbow. "Well, how was it, Kimmie-cub?"

Dang, these guys have a tendency to pick the worst nicknames (contextually) for her. But she's still kind of melancholy about losing nearly everyone from her past life, so she allows it as always. Plus, you know, you don't get to pick the nicknames people give you… so she thinks it's okay she does that.

So Kim tells them, avoiding some of the more scandalous details. Maybe Kim has more friends than she had accounted for.

* * *

"So your body has clearly seen some progress in the past few months — how long have you been self medicating?"

**The San Francisco LGBT Center: San Francisco, CA  
April 16, 2008: 12:42PM**

Dammit, really? That soon? Kim was kind of hoping they wouldn't notice. It's not fun to own up to how unhealthy all that, but here she is, sitting on a doctor's table for the first time in months. It's awkward enough, since she has to cover up so much so that they don't see the scars.

Kim does notice though when Rhino frowns at her when she pulls her shirt lower than it needs to when the doctor gets close to her stomach. But what is she supposed to do: show them? She'd be in a hospital bed for weeks with all the scars she's retained!

"Two months," Kim sighs. "How can you tell?"

The doctor considers her for a moment, as if wondering whether or not he should actually tell her what the red flags were. "Your skin is too soft for your age, you're lucky, Miriam. With the other drugs you're self-medicating on, you could have gotten yourself hurt."

Kim sighs again. This sucks. She doesn't know why she allowed this. It was all fun and games until the actual check-in.

She actually had _fun_ waiting in the lobby with her goons; they were showing _The Little Mermaid _on Broadway and Rhino was freaking out over all the music cues in the score that wound up making it into the Broadway show.

"_Aaaaaaaw shit! Kim! Dat's da rhythm to dat one song I like — "One Step Closer" — can you fuckin' believe it, KP!?_

But it just got so bad. The weigh-in was the worst part, she doesn't even want to think about the number they told her. She even asked them not to say anything! She didn't want to know… now she's getting all these diagnoses.

"You understand we need to schedule you to see a psychiatrist right, sweetheart?"

Kim blinks. "No, I — I like my dosages."

"They're a little high," the doctor says carefully. "It's possible that they are making your issues stronger, actually."

Kim blinks. "What?"

"Yes, that happens sometimes," the doctor says, staring daggers at Rhino, as if he's responsible for little Mim.

"Rhino's just my friend," Kim says quickly. She doesn't want him to get into trouble, at the very worst she will hold herself accountable for her own actions.

"Rhino?" the doctor almost spit-takes.

Rhino frowns, his beetle black eyes going wide. "_Clarence,_" he corrects with the faintest hint of a lisp. "But yeah, Rhino is way cooler."

"Uh huh," the doctor shakes his head and looks back to Kim. "I'm concerned for you because — well, I know you said you're eighteen — " Yeah, _you said._ He knows.

Really, she's nineteen, or, no, fuck — she's sixteen. Maybe, she's just sort of guessing. She doesn't really know, it all kinda happened and she was just left like this.

" — your physiology is of someone much younger, and your dosages are a little much. Normally, I'd ask you to just hop onto blockers for now. Spironolactone is really strong — as I'm sure you know by now."

Kim nods. It's also really _gross_. But it's definitely done more for her than the estradiol.

"HRT has a tendency to mess with our feelings, and while you're also sampling anti-depressants it's really likely a lot of your mood swings are coming from — if it's alright for me to make the assumption, Miriam — an unsteady amount of medication. I'm not too far off, yes?"

Kim bows her head. This sucks. They're going to take her meds away now, draw blood or something, and ask her to slow down on dosages and wait until she's older. But she _is_ older — she's an adult. Technically. She has a right to the body she wants.

"_Just go back to Ron_," a dark voice cackles in her mind. "_He can change you back_."

That is probably true. But going back to Ron is a death sentence — he's out for blood. This goes way beyond the traditional game of hero vs. villain. He _will _kill her, and even if he did for whatever reason find it within himself to give Kim her body back, he would totally use it to manipulate her.

"I've been really scared," Kim admits suddenly, the words so foreign to her lips but true to her heart. "I was scared of being left behind."

"You don't have to worry about that," the doctor so gently takes her by the shoulder and looks right to her. He does seem really nice actually, she's just a difficult patient is all.

Kim doesn't make a move to remove his hand from her, she kinda likes it where it is. It beats the alternative.

"You're undeveloped anyways honestly," the doctor explains. "The spirno will do wonders for you. It's not too late, okay?"

Whooooa.

_It's not too late?_

He's — he's not just saying that, is he?

Kim looks to Rhino for some reason, and the doctor catches that, laughing. "Plenty of people transition later in life and they come out just fine."

Kim just kind of sits there, speechless.

"Great, so next I'm going to send you back to the lobby room while we prepare your blood test. And then — "

Kim interrupts. "I was kind of hoping to get my prescriptions today… I'm uh, not from around here. I'm in Foster City and don't drive and — "

"That's okay, you're not our first patient not from San Francisco, it's seriously really common," the doctor kicks back a bit. Kim can see that his forehead is wrinkled up with so much stress, but his voice is somehow so steady. She admires that a lot, she used to be like that too. She just needs to make a goal of getting back there. "We have a system for it. After your blood test, go downstairs to the pharmacy and you can set up a delivery service. You'll get the meds later than you might like, but…"

"What about the psychiatrist?"

"Ah, yes," the doctor furrows their brow. "Mental health is on the fourth floor, talk to them before you go. I know that's a lot of to-dos, but — "

"No," Kim interrupts. "It's what I have do to get better, right?"

There's a nice sparkle in the doctor's eyes; Kim hopes that made his day better. "Yes, yes it is, Miriam! I'm glad you're taking to this so well."

Kim is surprised in herself too.

But for once, she's looking forward to what comes next.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Sorry this one took so long - I debated for a week whether or not this and the next chapter should be combined, and I decided to keep it split. The next chapter is slowburn-ish, and then we go into a li'l breakneck session. Really excited, and I finally figured out how to do a musical episode for this fic which I've wanted since the start._


	14. Hang On, Man

Turns out Kim wasn't looking forward to what comes next because apparently that meant getting her ass kicked...

**Papa's Cuppa Joe: Foster City, California  
April 29, 2008: 12:54PM**

...at her work place no less! Just wait for it.

Kim has complicated feelings about being a barista. On one hand, it's really relaxing for her to not be in charge of something. All she needs to do is listen and do as she's told; she loves that. No serious thinking on her end.

But on the same token — man, is it stressful. Not only are the customers _so mean_ sometimes, there's also so many rules! Kim has to take flashcards home so she can memorize all of the drinks which is so unideal.

Factor in that Kim isn't even using her real name —

Oh, and don't forget she is working part-time here _and_ the Bermuda Triangle as a result —

— hey, maybe Kim is having a serious problem! Go figure.

...oh, and before we move on Kim is already _training _other baristas. Her! Kim Possible, teenage burnout! It's nuts, but y'know, it's a living and all that.

Even when your ex-boyfriend shows up and orders an Americano.

Yep. Yikes.

Ron stands at the front of the line, all dressed up in some kind of disguise. But she sees past the shades, fake goatee, and beanie. For some reason, he seems a lot taller than he usually is, but that's probably just because Kim is feeling a little scared.

"Hi, welcome to Papa's Cuppa Joe, how can I, um, serve you?" Kim tries to keep it cordial.

But Ron just stares at her. This is so weird. For a week this shop has been a safe haven for her to retreat and not think about her — um, admittedly bold plans of taking over the world. She really doesn't like Ron staring at her like this.

"An Americano," he rasps. "Li'l cream, four sugars, please."

Immediately, he hands her the cash — in assorted change. She hates that, it's awkward counting weird numbers in front of people. It makes her get all flustered. Ugh, her head hurts. She doesn't even remember coming in today, and though her limbs are tired from standing for so long, the shop seems nearly empty. Why is she so tired?

Who have her the right to feel that way?

Furthermore, this doesn't make sense — why is Ron here? What is he going to do? Try to kill her?

Kim turns awa from Ron. For some reason, she gets it into her head that if she just makes his Americano, he'll go away faster. He did order it to-go, right? Ugh, she doesn't want to double check.

She looks back at him and he smiles impishly, drawing deeper into his hoodie. It's so weird, he isn't saying anything… and she doesn't feel any of that ol' Mystical Monkey Radiation coming off of him so she really isn't too sure what it is. But it has to be him, right?

Agh.

Kim pulls the espresso shots, nervously looking over her shoulder. She's all sweaty. The moment the espresso hits the bottom of the paper cup, she eyes the pull. If the shots take too long to come out, then it'll be too bitter probably. Ron will hate it and throw the cup at her.

She sighs, and moves fast once the shots finish. She needs to get the hot water on the espresso, and agh, the best hot water tap is right behind the register. Kim feels Ron's eyes crawl down her spine, hanging around her waist where the apron ties together.

Her skin crawls.

Kim looks into the metal faucet, and in the reflection she sees Ron's gloved hand fall into the pouch of his hoodie and out comes what she is 99% sure is the handle to a gun.

Kim doesn't hesitate.

She spins on her feel and shoves the open cup into the air. The steaming hot water flies out, arcing past the bar, and nailing Ron in the face. He screams, but still stands ramrod straight. He raises his gun up to his ear, an ugly pink blossoming out from under her hand that claws at his skin. He gets a target on Kim.

Kim lunges at the bar, throwing herself up and over into a dropkick at Ron's throat. She feels the Adam's Apple crunch under her slip-resistant shoe and he slips onto the tip of his heel. Mid-teeter back, Ron grabs Kim by the ankle and takes her with him. His back runs into a shelf of decorative mugs, and he hurls Kim into a shelf of coffee bags, both ground and whole bean.

The shelves jam into her lower back and it hurts — a lot. Things tumble everywhere around her and she hits the floor. The bulimia and her weakened skin courtesy of the Estradiol make this hurt a lot more than it should. But she's there.

Kim knows she just endangered all of her customers by knocking him onto the main floor — but she trusts herself, she knows she can dismantle him before it's a problem. She just… she really needs Ron to _feel_ this loss. She wants to eviscerate him.

Kim stumbles back to her feet. Ron is up just as quick, already training the gun on her chest. Why he's using a gun, Kim doesn't know. Ron is one the few people on this planet who really doesn't need a gun with the kind of power he can throw around. Maybe he's trying to be discreet about this assassination attempt? Or he's scared she'll suck up his powers or something.

Oh geez, he's aiming right at her face.

Too far to smack him, Kim picks up the nearest thing — in this case, a ground bag of Sumatran roast — and hurls it at Ron's face. Not the best but then — Ron fires the gun and Kim's lucky enough that the bullet tears through the bag.

It bursts — and a cloud of ground coffee flies with the momentum of the throw and nails Ron in the face, blinding him. He reels back, gun flying off course again. Kim rushes him and tries knocking him back into a different shelf. She starts with a punch to his jaw and a roundhouse kick to the stomach. But her blows don't seem to slow him down and — still blinded — Ron grabs Kim by the back of her polo-shirt and whirls her through the air, launching her across the store.

Kim lands on the bar, lucky enough that her skull didn't smash into the wood. She slides herself off the rest of the way and tumbles to the floor.

_Bang! Bang!_ goes Ron's gun. Above her, several things erupt. Tea leaves and coffee grind tumble to the floor. Fucker. Kim worked hard at making those look nice!

Kim hears Ron's footsteps over the tiled floor, so she promptly dives into one of the mini-fridges below the bar; she's small enough to fit in if she draws her knees in really tight.

She hears Ron mumble something incoherent, and a cabinet opening. He's onto her, he knows she's hiding, he just doesn't know where yet. Kim closes her eyes and focuses. This is life or death, where is he in the store? Which drawer did he just open? Does he realize she can fit in the fridge? Probably not.

Then Kim hears the distinct sound of wood creaking. That has to be on the other end of the store, it's possible Ron is tricking her, but most likely his back is to her. This is the moment to strike.

Kim slips out of the fridge, fingers pinched around four gallons of whole milk. She sees Ron mere inches from her, the back of his blond head facing her. That's it, that's the moment. She goes for the swing and _Bang!_ she strikes him in the neck with all four gallons simultaneously. Ron's body goes limp and he hits the floor.

That's it.

She really just won. Holy shit. Now what? Should she kill him before he —

_Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click._

Whoa — what?

Kim turns to her right and shit — that's a lotta guns. All heavily armored Global Justice agents. Where the fuck did they come from? How did Kim not notice that she was getting surrounded? Either way, it's far too many for even her to take on at once, not when she's unarmed, in pain, and tiny. Kim sticks both arms in the air and backs up, wincing. Are they just going to kill her? Or will she be taken in for questioning?

"Ha ha ha!" Ron laughs — wait, no. That's not how Ron laughs, the voice is too throaty, too deep

Kim looks past her shoulder and sees the big lug standing up — wait, big? Ron's not _that_ big. Wait! No no no, it can't be…

'Ron' starts with the fake facial hair and knocks it to the floor. He grins, but she's starting to see rubber sheen reflecting in the fluorescents. A mask on top of another mask.

Kim sighs. "That's some Scooby Doo shit, Nong Man."

'Ron' laughs and takes off the final mask, revealing a very sweaty Nong Man, curly black hair stuck to the sides of his egg-shaped head. Nong Man flashes his teeth at Kim before waving off the 'Global Justice agents.'

"Good fight technique," Nong Man says, strutting past Kim without looking down at her. "But you're way too focused on your ex, dude. You totally missed the part where all the boys from downtown came in!"

Kim's face goes red. "I — it's not because I thought you were Ron! You — you — you were trying to kill me, so — "

Nong Man raises an eyebrow. "So every time you've had your life threatened, you went total lizard brain and got checkmated just like that? Methinks not. You got mad hang-ups, girl."

Kim sighs. At least no one is trying to kill her now, though her heart is racing. "Why did you come here? This isn't fair, I'm going to have to like, relocate now and — "

Nong Man shakes his head, sliding his hips over the bar. "Your head's a little fuzzy right now, right?"

Oh no. "You drugged me," Kim says flatly.

"Yu_p_, and this is a model of the store, funny you never considered it, but c'mon. _Papa's Cuppa Joe?_ Think on that one — _Papa_. Who else do you know that's a father… or should I say, _Daddy?_"

Kim buries her face into her hands. "So Big Daddy bought this… because I'm here? No, he — oh, he already owned it."

Nong Man nods.

"I'm still not okay with you drugging me," Kim says.

Nong Man shrugs. "What? C'mon, KP, I sent you a Google Calendar invite for all this."

Kim furrows her brow.

"Guess that joke didn't land," Nong Man mutters to himself. "It's 'kay. You're in shock."

"This is my job." Kim is seething. "I need this, and you're — you're messing with it."

"Oh no," Nong Man feigns a whimper. "The totes big shot mafia kingpin is upset people will try to kill her like this… make no mistake," he boosts himself off the bar and looks down at Kim with eyes that somehow read to her as very loving. "It's going to get worse as we ramp up, and I need you ready."

Kim considers that. He's probably right, she just wishes she wasn't put through the ringer like that. The stress that mounted from all that is making her want to take a nap. "_You_ need me ready?"

"Cha," Nong Man chuckles. "I'm your Number Two, Kimmy. My whole thing is making sure you're good. So here's the deal — we are going to start training. A lot. Because if you going toe to toe with that Ron fucker throws you off _that much_, we have a serious issue."

Kim slumps back. She knows he's right but goddammit, this is so frustrating! She wishes it could just be simple, she wishes that Ron wasn't so obsessed with taking her down. This rivalry thing sucks, and she knows the healthy thing to do is figure out what she did wrong — but after what that bastard has done to her, she never wants to think like that. She wants him to always be the bad guy, needs him to be the bad guy, for her sanity.

Fuckity fuck.

Kim looks at Nong Man; he's right. When eventually she has to kill Ron, she'll be surrounded by thugs. She'll have to kill Ron without hesitation and move on without batting an eyelash. He needs to matter so little to her for that to happen, and she needs to become a combat machine once again.

IE. She needs to go back to being _the_ Kim Possible.

Kim takes Nong Man's hand without asking and shakes it. Because he's right. Super bloody solution to a problem that's been nagging at her for almost a year now, but he's right.

* * *

Kim comes at Nong Man fast — she really doesn't want to train, she knows she's good enough, and knows if she can just take him out fast that'll be more than enough proof that she can move on.

Granted — she chose him as her Number Two for a reason.

**Boothbay Park: San Francisco, California**  
**April 24, 2008: 1:06PM**

Both wield bo staffs — that was Nong Man's request — and damn he's good with one. Kim hasn't seen the guy in action since Yamanouchi but he is quite adept. Despite his cool cucumber exterior, he moves fast and aggressively. His cloudy eyes get focused and his movements are as precise as a ballerina's.

Kim wonders how much of his days is spent on training. He's — _good._ She admits that begrudgingly.

Whatever she clashed with at Papa's was a performance. Nong Man fights nothing like Ron, fights like nothing she has ever seen.

It's humiliating, at least it's not obvious that this is _the Kim Possible_ going up against this guy, though she admits she isn't used to training in an open park like this. The sun is hot on her neck, and the grass messes with her footing.

Not daring to get overtaken by him, Kim stays on the offense and moves in hard, forcefully swinging at his jaw. Used to hand-to-hand, the staff is a bit new for her and she's not sure if she likes the distance it makes her take from her opponent.

Nong Man blocks each blow, his staff always making it to Kim's target before she can gain any kind of traction, and dammit, with each clash, pain echoes up to Kim's elbows and Nong Man looks at her with pursed lips.

She gets what's happening pretty quickly — she's telegraphing. He isn't, Nong Man keeps eyes on her eyes at all times, he never looks away. Kim looks away constantly to aim her swing. She used to not do that, but she has to now because she's still figuring out how to fight in this diminished form. It's not her fucking fault she has to —

Nong Man pivots, combat boots kicking off the ground so he's balancing on steel toe. He makes a dramatic lunge to Kim's right and she just misses a good _thwack!_ to his back. With his major height advantage, Nong Man swoops over her and _bops!_ her on the head with his staff.

Kim growls, stars flashing over her eyes. She pivots to face Nong Man who lands with his staff outstretched in one hand. He waggles his eyebrows at her and she charges. This time she hits harder, she feels the strain on his arms, though his facial expression doesn't tell that story at all. Still as coy as ever.

Kim decides to go really hard and locks Nong Man's staff in place, she feels him struggle to break it loose. It doesn't give Kim much room to maneuver, but hey — she's little now and can make a bold move.

Kim releases her hold against his, and dives forward, rolling underneath his bowed staff, carrying her own staff with her. She pokes it up, aiming to jab Nong Man in the balls, but _dammit!_ — he catches on and leaps back, her staff _just_ missing his junk. She gnashes her teeth when really, she should keep rolling.

Nong Man's boot swings out and nails Kim right in the back, shoving her back up to her feet. She stumbles, Nong Man's pole clothes-lining her in the stomach. Without too much of a heave-ho, Nong Man flings his staff and shoves Kim flat on her back, empty-handed now. He tosses her his staff, chuckling.

"Nice try, kiddo, but — "

"Shut up," Kim snaps, flipping off her back and onto her feet.

"Ooh, how saucy," Nong Man laughs.

Enough of this shit, man.

Kim charges again for Round #3. This time, she doesn't look away from Nong Man's eyes. She wants to see him flinch and wince and shit when she takes him out on this one. She holds the offense, her staff flying around erratically.

Then Kim takes a risk.

She twirls around, building up enough momentum in her staff so that when she strikes again, she manages to twist Nong Man's grip against his wrist. His staff is nearly horizontal to the ground, and that's her moment. Kim leaps, rolling off her own staff and launching into the air, kicking Nong Man square in the chest.

He falls back and she grabs both bo staffs mid-flight.

Nong Man hits the ground panting and before he knows it, Kim plunges both bo-staffs into the dirt, sandwiching the tips around his throat like a giant pair of scissors.

"Nice," Nong Man smirks.

Kim leans in, pressing her foot onto his chest, and leers at him. "Say Uncle."

"Nah — now, listen up. You proved what I expected, you can nail one-on-one fights. Your aggression is to intense, it's great, however — that daring do bullshit you just pulled? Wow_ie_, that's a helluva opening, and ya can't quite pull that when surrounded."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Surrounded? I'm not — "

Nong Man sucks on his lip. "Kid — it's a Strike Force you're up against, not just Stopstop."

There's movement in the grass. Kim doesn't know where they are, it's hard to tell when outside in a public space, but she's betting there's at least three more goons coming out to stop her. Great.

"Now, what do you do? Do you go for a killing stroke with me and risk opening yourself up to getting shot?" Nong Man flops his head up against the grass like it's a pillow. "Or do you take out my goons before they take you out?"

Kim growls, knowing the answer and somersaults back, letting loose a primal whoop. Her palms smash against the dirt and she leaps higher and higher, briefly gaining fast windows into her surroundings. Hard to say, but one goon is behind her.

She bounds really high on her way to him and dropkicks him right in the face. His whole head lolls back and crashes into the dirt underneath her sneakers, and she rolls off of him.

"Mother Mary!" Vinny yelps, nose in the dirt. He raises his hands high, "I'm out, okay — I'm out!"

Kim frowns and looks up; Mugsy is charging her, but is just enough paces behind that Kim can focus. She lets herself get grounded. She's sixteen years old, clad in only a t-shirt and cargo shorts. She's frail, but very angry — all the time. This isn't too new for her.

She launches herself at Mugsy and vaults into his waist, her legs clamping to his hips. His hands fly down to smack her off him, but she contorts herself out of the way and hooks her body over his and brings both fists down on his head.

Mugsy crashes to the ground besides Vinny, sputtering that he's calling it too.

Kim grins and turns back and — oh shit, that's a lotta goons coming out of the woodworks. Nong Man smiles at her from ear to ear, lazily waving around both bo staffs, before the crowd of goons blocks him out of sight. The last thing Kim sees is Nong Man's dumb smirk. God, he's insufferable.

But Kim kinda loves it.

She charges ahead, leaping and vaulting across the grass landing dead-center of the crowd. She'd rather be surrounded then get stampeded; she ain't goin' out like Mufasa.

They close around Kim fast. Fists fly, boots too. It's rough. Kim does her best, she can only react. She dodges like mad, she feels knuckles scrape against her chest, heels tapping her lower back. Occasionally, something gets through like a punch to the jaw but she tries to ignore it. She twists fists, kicks the back of kneecaps, tries her best. But it's impossible, she already knows she lost this one.

Then a stab to the stomach. Kim doubles over and sees the retreating blur of a bo staff. She grins, blood spilling between her teeth and readies herself. A second jab and this time she smacks the staff _hard_, knocking it off its path. The second staff comes in and she kicks that one. It bruises her leg.

Kim tries moving in to attack Nong Man but she can't even see him clearly, maybe she catches some of that bronze skin through the throng, but there's just too many of them for her to get to focus.

Nong Man swoops in again and she dodges those too, she blocks them even. All the while the goons all around her kick and punch, and it bounces off of her. She'll feel it later, she knows that one for sure. There's no getting out of the pain but that's okay, she can get through it. She's had worse.

Kim screams and it really hurts her throat, but it scares off of enough of the goons from their next grins. It gives her a little wiggle room and she knows Nong Man is going to go big in his next swing to kill that one advantage Kim just gave herself.

Both staffs come at once, extending out from the crowd, and pointed at her biceps. Kim grins again, because she counted on that. She just manages a dodge and grabs the staffs, letting them carry her into the air. Briefly, she flies into the air but manages to bring herself back down. She digs her sneakers into the dirt, and drags the staffs back, bringing Nong Man with them.

Nong Man's eyes are wide — she managed to surprise him!

Now it's time for the killing stroke —

…

...and someone punches Kim in the head.

She flops over on the ground, rolling into the dirt, covered in cuts and bruises. It all stings so much. Clutching her pounding head, Kim glances up at Nong Man who smirks back at her. She growls, curling her fingers into the dirt, lifting out clumps of grass.

"Down Kimmie," Nong Man chuckles.

Kim screams again — though by now her voice is totally shot — and lunges at him. But someone strong grabs her by the waist and holds her back.

"It's over KP," Rhino urges her, plowing his forehead into her back. "C'mon, let it go. S'okay."

It's hard to say no to Rhino, she falls against the ground. The lesson is over. Nong Man cackles and walks off, bo staffs slung over his shoulder. He doesn't need to tell her what she did wrong, she already knows. It's the thing that's making her claw at the ground and nearly froth at the mouth.

She's… feral.

Since when?

* * *

"'Kay, so at first I thought you just had a Stopstop problem, but nah — you're just really pissed off."

Kim rolls her eyes. Duh, she's pissed off. C'mon.

"You pay by the hour?" Kim smirks.

"Ha _ha._ I could if you keep giving me shit."

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 27, 2008: 2:49PM**

Kim and Nong Man circle around each other warily; she's still not sure where this is going. She's in boxing gloves, new to her. She could maybe guess this is some kind of rage training — but she's still sore from a few days ago. Her muscles are already pissed at her for showing up to this next training.

Kim feels like the tank top she's got on must be helpful; it shows off her arms which she's grateful are coming back into their full strength. It's nice to flex like that, but she also kinda likes showing off all the bruises and cuts. Same for her legs, though those are clad in sweatpants. She might change that for next time.

"What'd you eat today?" Nong Man asks, looking at her hard. He licks his lips.

"Um, a tofurky sandwich," Kim answers fast.

"You keep it down?"

Kim frowns and looks away.

Nong Man shakes his head, "That's another issue too we got to work on. Listen, Stopstop's got — "

"Can you please just call him Ron?"

Nong Man considers that. "Nah, Stopstop's easier — he's got cosmic powers, you don't. You ain't got shit, but — you're kind of a beast. I can't reverse engineer your personal problems but when it comes down to it, I honestly think you can beat him..."

Kim frowns and leans back; she didn't expect him to say that. Honestly, it sounds kind of absurd to put it that way. She's a mere mortal, and she's _dying_.

"...but you need to start taking your health more seriously."

Ah, there it is.

Kim looks at her feet. "So what? You going to walk me through bulimia?"

Nong Man raises an eyebrow, as if what Kim just asked is absurd. He flashes his square teeth at her. "Nah — Imma kick your ass instead. Get the fuck ova here."

Kim sighs, of course it's just that. They're just going to beat each other up and not actually work on their problems…

"But picture I'm Stopstop," Nong Man says, striking a fighting stance.

Kim raises her gloves, arching her eyebrow high. "Why?"

"Oh my God, Kim, did you give _Shego_ this hard of a time with every—ah, there she is!"

Kim's flurry is hard and normally, would clock any goon out. Nong Man of course blocks each blow with ease. He bobs from one heel to the other. "So tell me — why'd you break up with him?"

Kim sighs. "We were living in each other's shadows."

"I know," Nong Man leaps away from her punches. "You've said that a lot."

Kim groans. "Aren't you supposed to block my hits instead of dodging?"

"Fuck you."

"Ugh, great. Fine," Kim growls, pivoting to Nong Man's new position. "I loved him for so long — it's just, neither of us changed much. Neither of us had a reason to."

Nong Man lets Kim unleash on him this time, blocking her punches in quick succession. "But he was the childish one, right?"

"I think we both were," Kim bites her lip. "It was just more obvious with him."

"You think you're immature?"

"No, not — not immature, just… I don't know, all this stuff happened to me and I never like — dealt with it. It was all fun and games."

Kim remembers her old life. Swimming through lakes loaded up with drones, somersaulting past matrixes of lasers, going toe to toe with resurrected Chaos Gods, and stopping doomsday machines from going off.

But she never cried, never screamed, never felt like she was going to die.

Her heart beats fast.

Nong Man ducks a blow and actually goes on the offensive. Kim swings her leg up and blocks his dive, falling back onto her rear foot. She immediately shifts back into punching.

"What does Stopstop have to do with that? To me, it sounds like a _you problem_."

"It was a me problem!" Kim blurts out. "That's what I've told him since the beginning."

"Oh and let me guess — you worded it as, _it's not you, it's me._"

"No, I — shit, I don't know, man," dammit, it really pisses her off when he dodges her! She thought the whole point was to feel the impact of her anger, but Nong Man won't stop yanking her chain.

"So why is he roped into your internal rage machine?" Nong Man chuckles, as if reading off a script.

"Well — he's hurt me and he turned me into a trans kid and — "

" — I thought you _wanted _that — "

It did sort of go like that, she remembers how he gripped her by the chest with a phantom hand, and how his power crawled through her veins, warping her into something that had more to do with her real desires. She still can't explain why she wanted this. She's hated so much of it, hates it even now facing Nong Man where it's so much harder for her to keep up with the dude. She's never had to struggle so much before on such a physical level.

"I don't know," Kim grunts, landing a hook that feels really good.

"Cop-out."

"Fuck you," Kim goes for a kick to his head, but he catches her the foot.

"Uh-uh-uh, no kicking," Nong Man throws her foot over her head and she nearly falls over. Fortunately, Kim catches herself and raises her fists. "Are you mad that he's better than you?"

"He is _not_ better than me!"

"Ah, there it is — whoa!" Nong Man just barely dodges a punch to his smug face. He rubs his chin, eyes glowing like gemstones in the light. "Nice."

Kim grinds her teeth and keeps pushing ahead. "He's hurting people — a-a-and he keeps telling me how _abused_ I am — how _damaged_ I am — but the same thing's happening to him!"

"Who cares?"

"_I _do!"

"Why?"

"_Because I fucking lived through it already and he won't fucking acknowledge it!_"

Nong Man's hands clamp around her fists, holding them in the air. She tries to pull her arms out of it, but he won't let go. She tries pushing against his grip so that she punch his own hands back into him — but he's stronger than her by a lot.

"Why do you need him to acknowledge it?" Nong Man asks.

"I — I — I don't know."

"Well that's a shitty answer."

"Sure," Kim growls, trying to find her next opening.

"I don't see how you're different from him."

Kim twitches. "I'm nothing like him."

Nong Man moves in and strikes at her fast. Kim shuffles with his momentum, but it's hard for her to keep up the needed pace when his limbs are so much longer than hers. The thick boxing gloves don't help much either.

"He killed people — and joked about it constantly, right? That made you upset?" Nong Man asks.

"Yeah," Kim grunts.

"You've killed people — and you've spent your whole time crying about how sad you are, acting like a ten year old."

Kim blinks, and it's hard to tell whether it's tears or sweat she's feeling. "That's not fair."

"No one gives a fuck how fair it is, Kimmie, but what I see is a brat cozying up to Hank and Big Daddy like they're your freakin' surrogate — "

Kim thinks about the time Hank called her his daughter when on the curb in Reno, and how warm it made her feel inside. She thinks about Big Daddy, when he defended Kim in front of that realtor. She thinks of how supportive the two of them have been since her reign began at the Bermuda Triangle, when really they could have just had Nong Man kill her.

" — dads," Nong Man finishes, voice already trailing off to his next thought. "Oh shit, you really do feel that way, huh? I was just talkin' smack."

Kim's face goes red. "Y-yeah, I — I don't want to talk about it."

"Whoa — yeah, maybe we should get you a real shrink, because I totes underestimated how fucked in the head you are."

Kim bites her lip. Obviously, he is correct. Kim is not well, and punching the shit out of Nong Man can realistically only bring her so far. In fact, it's not bringing her very far at all. She already knew all of this, already knew that she was really taking on the role of an actual child in all of this.

Kim never had a chance to be a kid, she doesn't like talking about it much or thinking about it, but ever since hearing about the heroics of Global Justice agents as a little girl, she wanted to be like them. It's a coincidence her babysitting site lead her into this world — but she took it on so readily. She spent hours training and reading and learning and doing everything she could to get to this point.

And it all broke down on itself. Everything collapsed. Global Justice turned out to be bad, Ron turned out to be a massive douchebag, and Kim turned out to be a burnout.

She played basic average girl in high school, but it was all fake. She didn't really care about any of it — she just _wanted_ to care. Wanted to care about who she went to Prom with, not that she actually did. Because everyone else cared, and she didn't at first. People saw her freak fighting and dismissed her, so she thought maybe if she cared about the stuff they cared about, they might actually like her and let her in.

But none of those people she tried to impress ever had anything interesting to talk about.

So she told everyone she was leaving it behind to go far away from everything and have a normal life.

But Shego and Drakken were still out there, and it felt like unfinished business. She needed that wrapped up badly, so she pursued that.

Hence Paris.

Hence Kim getting into trouble at the Bermuda Triangle.

Hence Shego saving her life and — well — everything else.

"Yo, focus up," Nong Man rolls his eyes.

Kim blinks and snaps back to it. "Right, sorry, I — "

"It's fine, listen, here's what's going to happen," Nong Man says. "You're working on anger management in your fighting with me, Rhino's gonna take you out to counselling weekly, and tonight you're going out with your girl friends."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Huh?" She assumes he means her friends in group. "We don't have plans to hang tonight — "

Nong Man raises her phone coyly. "Your security on your phone is _lacking_ and I _may have_ started a group text earlier."

Kim frowns; she should be more excited about that. But she hasn't actually hung out with her group friends outside of group. Or talked about non-sad things with them either.

"Hey, hey," Nong Man coos, getting closer to her. He kneels down to her level and pats her on the head. She hates to admit it, but it feels really nice. "You're fine — you'll be okay tonight. You just — need friends your age. You need like a life or some shit. Because I ain't lettin' you be like me."

"Huh?" Kim says. "But you're super chill."

"No, I _play_ chill," Nong Man chuckles. "Big diff. C'mon, give it a sec and then come at me with all you got."

* * *

It's not until Kim gets off at her bus stop that she realizes that she hasn't had a casual hangout sesh with anyone in a while, so it's sort of anxiety inducing.

Kim also arrives 15 minutes early — it was either that or come 45 minutes late because of the bus schedule — so that's also weird. What if everyone else is late? What if one of the girls she doesn't know so well comes in first — what will they talk about?

"_Hey it was really weird when you came in that one time and talked about wishing you killed someone… by the way why are you trans now?"_

Ugh. It makes Kim groan. Audibly. Like someone looks over their shoulder at her she's so loud. Whoops.

**Rainbow Cafe: Foster City  
April 27, 2008: 7:45PM**

Kim doesn't even want to buy anything when she gets there. It's expensive! She can make most of this stuff at home — well, if she wanted to at least. She currently doesn't, but she's sure she could figure out how to make a donut where she doesn't have to pay $3.75 for each one.

Kim also needs to save money so she can _eat_ this week. She has to make so many meals a day, especially because of her job. She usually needs to bring two lunches to get through work okay, and while they offer her meals on the job, none of it is vegan so it doesn't matter. She can't eat it.

Kim ends up sitting alone at one of the wooden tables with nothing to do. Should she take her backpack off and put it under her chair? What if she forgets about it? She doesn't want to do that, but she feels like she looks stupid sitting in a nice chair where she can't even lean back all the way because of her backpack.

"Hey Kim," someone says.

Kim looks up and it's one of the girls she doesn't know very well, Shana. But once Shana starts talking Kim realizes she actually knows Shana more than she thought, so that's kind of cool. It starts with some small talk about what they did that day, but that escalates when Shana notices all of Kim's bruises.

They already know Kim is a victim.

"Oh, um, I have a new personal trainer," Kim says carefully, trying not to say that she hired a hitman, already doubting herself because why would a poor kid like her have a personal trainer? "Who is… uh… intense, and this week we've been working on group combat."

Shana raises an eyebrow. "Group? Like fighting with other people?"

"Um, no, like fighting a ton of people," Kim forces a smile. "Heh heh."

Meanwhile, someone pats Kim on the shoulder. Usually, unexpected touches freak her out and trigger her, but the touch is gentle and familiar enough for Kim to know it's safe. She looks up at her friend, Amelia. "Hey."

"Aw, you didn't get anything Kim?" Amelia notices right away. "Want to try some of my iced tea? It's rose hibiscus."

Kim frowns, noting the iced tea, and she can't deny that she likes the vibrant pink circulating around the ice cubes. Apparently it's obvious she likes it and it gets Amelia snickering, and she saunters off to get a second cup to pour some into.

It makes Kim kinda mad, but in a funny way, like she's not actually mad she's just pretending to be for the sake of the moment and it's kinda nice. She hasn't played like this since… high school.

Wow, already she is starting to feel a lot better.

It ends fast — faster than Kim ever expected. They leave the coffee shop and Kim naturally hangs back, trying to remember where the bus stop for her side of the street is. Does she need to cross the intersection or —

— that girl, Shana, offers Kim a ride home. Kim feels kinda guilty accepting the ride, but she knows by this point there is no way the girls are going to let her take one of the buses. So it might as well be Shana.

...then Shana comes inside. Kim texts Dom before they arrive, just in case, ya know, Dom doesn't want anyone over.

Kim and Shana hang out in her room for a long time. It's awkward, because it's just an inflatable mattress big enough for one kid and her many cats, so Kim rests her elbow to the hardwood and looks up at her friend.

They stay up late talking. Kim mostly talks about work, Shana talks about school. It's weird, Kim is used to talking about important things but right now she is just saying things and retelling stories from the barista job and it's all so _real_. Like Kim has a real life outside of being Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson.

She is human.

She has non-scary friends.

Kim just stops babbling at one point and rests her head against the side of the bed. Her voice kicked up into such a high register, and her throat is so dry. Shana's hand falls into Kim's and they stay like that for a while.

But Shana has to go home, Kim's bed is too small. She kinda wishes she let Big Daddy get her a real bed so she could have friends over to cuddle with but it's okay. She asks Shana to text her once she's home safe and waits, back flat on the bed, until the screen lights up with her new friend's name on it.

And then Kim goes to sleep.

* * *

Kim comes into the Bermuda Triangle and there's police tape out front. It's sort of a classic scene: the girl tries to get past the tape, the cops yell at her, she screams, and then one someone the girl knows comes out to calm down the girl and get her through.

Turns out Big Daddy owns some of the cops out here. Kim doesn't like that, but she'll take it.

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 28, 2008: 9:54AM**

Nong Man walks in long strides. "They hit us really hard — sorry, I should have expected it and—"

"It's fine," Kim snips, shoulders lowering, neck craning high. She looks tall in her suit, and her eyes are cold. "Just tell me what happened—"

Kim sees the scorch marks grazing the wall. But they burn so deep in — it's beyond scorch marks it's solid cuts. It's… terrifying.

"Ron," she says, and looks to Nong Man for confirmation.

Nong Man's expression is sobering. Kim notices that he's pulling his leather jacket over his flannel; he almost certainly got cut in the ribs, but she can't say anything right now. She needs to know what that piece of shit did.

"Hit hard and fast, like fifteen minutes ago," Nong Man monologues, guiding her along. Kim sees her goons in her peripherals, but they fade fast as she moves along, feet moving faster and faster. She sees Vinny, she sees Mugsy, Rhino… but why is Nong Man the one telling her this? He's not her go-fer, he's her Number Two — that's different.

"Nong Man," Kim speaks so slowly. "Where is Hank?"

Nong Man frowns and smacks open the door, accidentally knocking it off its broken hinges. The office is disheveled and the desk has been broken in two. Kim walks in and notices the bullet holes in the wall, aimed just near the frame. She can already picture Hank reaching for his gun and firing away.

"Is he…"

"Alive," Nong Man sighs. "Big Daddy too, but they're gone. Um. Your office got trashed too, before he realized you weren't here yet…"

"That's fine," Kim groans, imagining what might have happened had her bus not been delayed, but then… task at hand. Big Daddy, Hank, gone.

Kim trembles. She wants someone to stand besides her and hold her hand, but the two that could take it aren't here right now. They're… somewhere. Ron has them. Somehow Ron knows what they mean to her.

Kim bows her head. She hates how much Ron knows about her. She hates how even now he probes her mind.

"I can get a counter strike force set up," Nong Man says, leaning an elbow to the door, hand pushing through his hair. She's never heard his voice so flat. "We'll lose some guys but I think, with some luck, we can — "

Kim reaches into her pocket and pulls out a hair tie, shoving her hair into a ratty ponytail. Her thumbs combs through the locks, disheveling it.

Kim thinks about Hank taking care of her when he noticed she had acne, or Big Daddy when he gave her a pep talk at that shitty gala. _That _little girl can't be on this mission, Nong Man is right about her. She's not stable enough to field a confrontation with Ron.

But…

"Hey, boss, talk to me," Nong Man says. "I need a directive. Give me the word and I'll…"

"No, we do this," Kim says, her voice falling into a lower register. She feels herself dropping out of consciousness and this other voice bubbling to her throat. She needs it to speak, to cover for her.

"Dude, it's a trap, he must be really new to the villain game if he thinks this is clever," Nong Man says, trying to bring in some levity, but it doesn't land. "I think you know from our training what the risk is for you being on the field."

Kim's voice goes deep, and that familiar nasal comes in. "_'ey, dat's fine, boyo, Kim Possible can be a no show for dis, I think_."

"...whoa, are you kidding? I don't know if I get the joke…"

Kim grabs a dusty fedora from the floor, probably fallen from Hank's coat track, and spins it onto her head. She looks at Nong Man with such smarm.

"_I ain't Kimbo, ya ding dong_," she says. "_Da name's Stanson. __**Towtruck Stanson**_."


	15. Why Does Everything Need to Be So Sad

"Everything's looking bon-diggity perfect, Doctah Dee."

"That's unflattering — don't call me that."

"Okay, Beatrice."

"Stoppable, enough."

**Global Justice HQ: Sacramento, California  
April 30, 2008: 2:14AM**

Ron groans, looking out the window pane at the dark city. If he can be honest, he's surprised Kim hasn't tried to hit the base yet. Surely Kim already knew that GJ had an inconspicuous base out in Sacramento. But maybe Kim is actually using her head on this one; she knows the odds are against her and this is most certainly a trap. If so, hell yeah. It'll be a better fight at least. He can't wait to stomp her into dirt.

Betty glowers in the corner, elbow jabbed into the window besides him. The dark veils much of her face, it's odd standing alone with her like this. Sometimes Ron wonders why she even bothers with him... like he is _totally_ worth the trouble but damn is she cold. She's always so… occupied.

Betty eyes a helicopter passing above carefully. "It's too late to stop this, but I'm warning you, Stoppable."

Ron raises an eyebrow and leans up besides her confidently. "Chill out, my plan is perfect. Possible comes here, I defeat her — obviously — "

Betty rolls her eye, like she doesn't actually believe that. " — obviously — "

" — and expose her to the media!" Ron gestures wildly. "It's so easy, and it's not like she has a chance at stopping—"

"You're untrained, ill-equipped, lose your powers to her constantly, and what else?" Betty tilts her chin up playfully. "She knows your powers better than you do."

"What? No she doesn't," Ron snaps. He hates this kinda talk — the whole _Ron doesn't know to do anything!_ vibe. Not cool. "You know what I did to her, right?"

Betty doesn't seem impressed. Heck, she even feigns a yawn!

Ron gnashes his teeth. "Just because Kim killed Will doesn't mean — "

"She didn't kill Will."

Ron's heart stops and Betty's smile grows. "Is that what you've been so mad about? Because eh, Will did himself in. I'm surprised you didn't know what happened. If you knew your Mystical Monkey Crap better, I think you would have known that he — "

Glass shatters and little cuts of it fall onto his trench-coat. Ron snorts, feeling the cold breeze pass through his hair. Damn. Proving her point there, whatever. He eyes the city street way below and shakes his head, eye turning onto Betty. "I know enough."

"_Tsch_," Betty presses her flat teeth together and turns away, gloves sliding into her pockets. "Listen, I'm giving you the platform only because I _like_ the image of it being you of all people leading the strike force that will ultimately kill Kim Possible. This has nothing to do with that putrid Ron Factor and — " she turns back and despite all the power in the world living within him, Ron feels small under her withering gaze. " — when this fails tonight, when Kim Possible beats you — _don't laugh_, — you'll play by my rules on the next caper. Got it?"

Ron growls; he hates the way she talks to him. He got looped into this whole thing expecting to be a Big Kahuna, but nope. Same as always. Treated like crap.

Whatever. He'll stop Possible tonight, and this conversation won't matter.

* * *

Kim's eyes are laser focused on the skylight. Very precisely, she carves away the glass like some kind of cat burglar. She's done this sort of thing before, but never as a bona fide bad guy.

Kim sighs; she knows exactly what's going on here, she's not an idiot. She sees the helicopters whirling around the skyscraper, it's hard not to. Ron's trying to scare the shit out of her: plain and simple.

Is she scared?

Not tonight. She can't be. She is Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson and dammit she needs to look cool for the others watching.

**Global Justice HQ: Sacramento, California  
April 30, 2008: 2:41AM**

"You know this is a dumb idea, right?" Nong Man whistles, sitting cross-legged behind her. He's just so damn_ amused_. "Jumping down a skylight? Pretty cliche."

Kim side-eyes him. "Which is why you're my surprise back-up. I come down, all theatrical-like, beat up Ron's goons, and then when it gets hairy, you — "

" — do a li'l dropkick or something, no I get it," Nong Man shakes his head. "Trust me, I know more about this shit than you do."

"Oh? Why don't you take the lead then?" she asks sardonically.

"Ooh, Kimmie's getting spiteful — "

" — well, you're being annoying and — "

"Aren't you supposed to be _Towtruck Stanson_? Might wanna do some acting exercises before the drop."

Kim rolls her eyes, absently scratching her cheek. She gave it a day for the natural stubble to come in on her upper lip and cheeks. Under the light, the bristles light up like cat whiskers. Triggers her dysphoria like crazy, but… she has to. She knows it's a trap so the best she can do to keep herself separate from Kim Possible, teenage activist…

"Yo, sorry," Nong Man leans in and eyes her cheek. "You putting on weight?"

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Um."

"Your cheeks are rounder."

"Are they?" she touches them, and they do feel a little plumper. But that's not right, she's still not eating correctly, why would she —

"Shorter too," Nong Man adds on,

Kim frowns. That's not good. She was wondering why her clothes felt a wee bit looser.

"Kimmie, I think you're regressi—"

"I don't know," she snaps. "But let's not address it. 'Kay?"

"What, that you're probably fifteen years old now?" Nong Man growls. "Kim, you have to acknowledge it. Something is going on with you — "

Kim's eyes snap wide. "I don't have to listen to you when — " There's this bizarre crack in her voice, or rather, _un_-crack, and her voice flies into a higher register. " — oh my god."

Nong Man's expression softens. "See?"

Kim nods. "Yeah. Shit."

"Can you still do the voice?"

"Um," she bites her lip, and tries dipping into that mobster vernacular. At first the best that comes out is tenor, but she eventually finds that baritone, but it's not easy. She looks up at Nong Man and tries not to look like the wide eyed ff year old she's found herself as.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Nong Man frowns.

Kim shrugs. She doesn't really see any other way.

Nong Man falls back. "Why can't I just do this? I can handle it. Especially if you're turning into a baby."

"Can we not talk about it?" that higher voice says, god dammit, she sounds so plucky and innocent. She shakes her head and pretends to feel confident. She smirks. "I'm the one with the Mystical Monkey Know-How anyways."

Is she? Just being near Ron's pull is making her whole body cave into that desire of being a child again.

She looks back to her work on the skylight, smirk falling back into her neutral frown. If she sent Nong Man solo, he would just get killed. At least with Kim on board, they stand a chance.

She looks down below. It's way too dark for her to tell, but she has a feeling that Ron would have set up a ring of goons around the moonlight at the center of the floor. It's not good to think about Ron though, she risks literally losing her mind — and body apparently — doing so.

Nong Man is probably right, she should _switch_.

Kim stands ramrod straight and pushes her palms at the air, taking in a deep breath.

"You ready?" she asks, voice so soft.

"'Course, KP. Whatever happens down there, I got your back."

Kim eyes him carefully, fixing her tie. Her voice falls into that oily tenor and she cracks a nasty ass smirk. "No need to get so fackin' sentimental."

Nong Man's eyebrows shoot up way high. "Yeah, so — this totes warrants a discussion later about — "

"Afta we kick dat palooka's ass," Kim says, gently prying loose her pane of glass and readying the rope. "Not befo'."

...

Kim drops into the center of the room, landing on all fours, the end of her rope swinging above dangerously. Outside the moonbeam, Kim can hardly see a damned thing. Odd though that Global Justice Sacramento is such a dusty mess. The floor isn't even tiled!

Yet Kim already knows she's surrounded. Gently, she pivots back to her ankles and stands tall, re-adjusting her lapels and tipping her hat. It's just a matter of whether or not it's him or just his goons — _pft! _— she hears it, the telltale sound of a boot crushing pebbles of gravel.

Kim shifts to the side and feels a fist nearly smash her bicep, instead slipping ahead of her. Kim grabs the arm with both hands and twists it behind its owner's back. The man squeals, voice catching in his throat when her knee comes to his lower back. She looks down and sees Senor Senior Jr. in a Global Justice uniform.

God that's weird.

More stomping, a blood curdling air guitar scream from the dark, Kim's too slow on the uptake and drops Junior, her knees pushing hard to keep her standing with Motor Ed latched onto her back. She grunts and throws herself to the floor, using her body to sandwich him into the dusty cement. She rolls off him, and clearly that didn't hit hard enough because he's gaping at her, totally conscious.

"Towtruck Stanson?!" he blurts out. "Seriously?"

Right, these goons all know 'Towtruck Stanson.'

Kim grabs him by the cheeks and swings her knee into his nose. Blood splashes and she kicks him in the chest, pivoting back to Junior. Kim raises her fist and —

— blinding light —

— white fluorescent bathes the room and Kim winces, leaving a small enough opening that the next baddie can throttle her. She feels their hands around her waist and she feels herself rushing into the air. By the time she comes to, she realizes it's not hand_s_, it's _a_ hand — a gorilla hand — and DNAmy whips Kim to the floor.

Her limbs crack against each other and before she can rise up, her joints scream in pain and she falls even flatter across the floor. Her head throbs, her vision blurred. She's in too much pain to feel what comes next, which she thinks she sees spikes of electricity wrapping around her based off the harsh light show. Based off the maniacal laughter from behind her, Kim can venture a guess that it's Electronique.

Cold steel curves at Kim's neck, the hook of a golf club hooking her by the throat, forcing her eyes to gaze up at a cackling Duff Killigan, flanked by Professor Dementor.

"Alright lassie," Killigan raises his club high. "You've been a double bogey for some time…"

Dementor slaps the golf club, holding it in the air. "Vait — zis isn't Kim Possible!"

Lots of grumbling from the peanut gallery on that realization. Oy vey.

"Zis is — I don't knowv who zis is — "

"It's Towtruck Stanson, seriously."

"Oh, jah jah, vat does seem right…"

"No way, dat lad is a lasssie I tell yes! That's Kim Possible!"

"Uh, seriously? Yo, blondie," Motor Ed gestures at someone way past Kim's peripherals. "Can you — yeah, man, see? This kid doesn't look anything like Kim Possible."

Then in comes Kim Possible — or rather, Camille Leon doing an imitation of her. It actually takes Kim a moment to recognize… 'herself.' She's been in this new body for too long now. Kim hates how much more mature that self was. Camille warps back into herself, hands on her hips. "There's sort of a resemblance... doesn't she have brothers?"

"Egads, don't any of you pay attention?" Gemini snaps. God there's so many of them. He steps into the center of the crowd. "This is our target — Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson. We should kill him." He stretches out his metallic gauntlet, stretching his fingers out…

"No, _I_ want to kill them!" Killigan yelps.

"Nono, _I_ must make my father proud," Junior shouts, bracing himself between Kim and the others. "By doing what must be done." His lip quivers, his eyes clamping tight.

Oh Brother. "Just kill me already," Kim groans, but no one seems to be paying attention. Even Electronique is arguing, it's ridiculous… and where is Ron? Makes sense he'd run a shitty task force at least.

There's a twinkle off in the distance and Kim catches Nong Man's beetle black eyes. She grins. His hands clutch two revolvers to his chest. His eyes glow and everyone is too preoccupied to have noticed him. Daintily, he holds one out and — _Bang!_

All heads turn to Nong Man, and they miss the bullet that goes clean through the base of Killigan's golf club. It flies through the air, fluorescent wildly reflecting off the freshly polished head, and Kim rushes to her feet to catch it. Electronique revs up the electricity and it almost makes Kim keel, but she persists and — _wham!_ — clocks Electronique out with one mighty swing.

"Hey, that's mine!" Killigan bleats. Kim sighs, and jams the club into a crack in the floor, wedging it deep enough that she leaps off the ground, pivoting around the pole and kicking Killigan square in the chest. He falls and though her arms feel like jelly, Kim yanks the club out of the floor, brings it over her head and —

—

— winces.

_Splat._

Killigan's alive, but will need to see a good doctor now.

Kim looks ahead, and sees Nong Man handling most of the gang; it's only Gemini facing her. She raises the club high again but his finger rockets knock it away.

Kim bows low and rams her head into his stomach, which isn't hard given her further diminished height, and swings her boot up into Gemini's mecha-gauntlet, shattering the thing into pieces. It collapses onto the floor as chunks of metal and wires, leaving the man one-handed. He gasps, watching his wrist sputter and burn.

Not willing to take a second for sympathy, she raises her boot high and swings it directly into the guy's eyepatch, conking him out fast.

Kim spits at the floor. This is what she's been waiting for. She licks her lips and walks closer to the crowd. By now, DNAmy is down for the count and so is Junior — oh, and Dementor, just then. Nong Man punted him.

Just Electronique, Motor Ed, and Camille.

Kim hopes that Nong Man hasn't been… too bloody. Kim's been bad enough tonight.

Motor Ed rushes her, and Kim tightens her fist in turn. But doesn't expect him to fall to his knees and clasp his hands.

"Towtruck, dude, seriously!" Motor Ed screams. "Ya gotta stop this! This is seriously insane and — "

Kim remembers this guy so well, she remembers how he saved her ass at the Bermuda Triangle and she totally betrayed his trust.

She raises her fist high, aiming for the nose, brings it down like a gavel and —

…

It doesn't make impact. Her fist hangs just before his face, a blue cable wrapped around her wrist. It's taut, she can't hit him. Kim tries to break the bounds, but it sears her hand so fast it goes numb. She screams and the cable retracts, throttling Kim to the floor and dragging her over the cement. Her head bumps over and over again into the floor as she is pulled along.

Kim ends up crumpled at Ron Stoppable's feet, smeared in dust and blood. Lazily, he kisses his index finger and the blue 'cable' dissipates. He eyes her for a moment, smirking passively and she feels her face burn. Though his hands are on his heavy-duty utility belt, she feels his bare hands run through the scruff on her cheeks. A tingle to her groin.

His phantom touch runs over her hips, and up to her chest. It makes her skin crawl all over, it's hard to retain focus.

"_Coward_," Ron sighs, and waves his hand — his real hand — in the air. The steel wall behind him gives way to moonlight as it slides open, revealing a glass wall separating her from the city below — and a news helicopter that is swooped in _very_ close. Kim can imagine the framing of the shot, the narration happening live as she faces off with Ron, and she prays her disguise is good enough.

Her throat tightens and her feet drift from the ground. She looks down and sees Ron's fingers twirling in little circles, manipulating her body like a puppet. She drifts close to his chest, raised high enough for her to be eye-level with him, and he just stares.

"Sick and wrong, I can't look at you like this," Ron sneers, none of his usual bounce present. His voice is so cold and dark.

Kim has nothing to say to him so she spits in his face.

Ron rolls his eye and gestures lazily over her shoulder. "Okay, have fun."

The glass wall gets nearer and nearer to her and then…

_Crash_.

…

Falling sucks.

Kim has indeed fallen before. But never after being hurled through glass, holy shit that hurts. Usually it's not over a thirty story drop, usually it's not with the intention of killing her and as she passes past the newscopter (and she's sure they love broadcasting her timely demise) Kim almost wants to scream.

The spotlight from one of the towers above flashes over her body, illuminating her wavering blazer. Should she try — ouch, _fuck_.

Kim rolls, and it takes her a moment to realize why she's rolling — she wasn't actually suspended over open air quite yet, but instead a slanted roof. It bashes her head into her shoulders, her knees into her chest, her whatever into her everything. Again and again, slam slam slam. Bruises galore, her outfit tears at impact points. She rolls and rolls and catches a glimpse of the actual drop-off.

God fucking dammit.

Kim slams one boot ahead of her, her hips sliding against her heel, the pressure in her knee building to a snapping point. She pivots back and rips a grapple gun from her jacket and _bang!_ fires a line to the window lining she fell over. It catches and she stops. Turning, trying to ignore the copter, trying not to look directly at the camera, she fires her next line — across the chasm and to the next building.

Kim releases the first line and jumps, swinging across the gap like Tarzan or Spider-Man or something similar — though neither of those men would have swung as close to the copter which sends out an air current that whips off Kim's fedora. Her free hand splays out, desperate, and snatches the hat from the air, which throws her trajectory enough that when she lands — she lands sideways, facing down. Already her boots are slipping, and she's more preoccupied with keeping the stupid thing over her head so no one can see her eyes.

The eyes are the damning conclusion to who Big "Big" Daddy really is.

Kim stumbles off the building and falls, just managing to use her first grapple gun again to send another line back. She swings in an arc, jettisoning straight towards the window pane to the story directly below where she came from. Glass shatters again and —

…

— Ron hears it. He chortles, somehow Possible survived and swung into the room below them. Ha. _As if._ Torrents of power blast from his palms and destroy the floor below him. Rock and dust tumble everywhere, he doesn't care. He's about to finally roast this bitch. Without any pain, he falls into the floor below, a nearly pitch black room, trails of moonlight throwing themselves over the floor. He sees the hole in the window, and his eye narrows and he cracks a smirk sharper than a jack o'lantern's. "Heh heh, do you really think you can beat me Kim—"

Ron pauses. Where's Kim?

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

What is that annoying sound? Ron looks at his feet and sees a blinking red light. "What the fu—"

_BOOM._

Blinding orange light goes white and slams Ron into the wall so many yards back. His arms knock back into the wall, bones crack, and when he screams for help his mouth ignites in flame.

Moments later it's over and he's still breathing. Only he could have survived that though.

Gently, he falls back to the floor miraculously still intact. There's a thick smog ahead, but when he squints he makes out the faintest of silhouettes leaping down from above. Possible stands tall and marches towards Ron, gray smoke curling past her shoulders and revealing that ugly face of hers. She grins, wider than even he, and talks in a low baritone.

"Even wit'out your stoopid powers, ya can't keep up with me," she says.

Why the Hell is Kim talking like a 1920s gangster? Ugh. Not worth pursuing.

"I'm stronger than you," Ron says dully, trying to tap back into that Mystical Monkey Wrath.

Kim laughs. "Fo' sho, espesh when you rely on that dumbass sheett. How 'bout youze and me do a li'l on-on-one, huh?"

Now she's talking.

"Oh, I would like that, KP."

Kim crosses her arms, heels lifting off the floor. "Then come and get me you son of a bitch."

…

Ron charges her and Kim's honestly kind of surprised he took the bait so readily. He bows down, arms spread out like a kite, like he's doing some kind of dumbass Naruto run. It gives Kim some sort of relief — Ron is so untrained that even in her rebuild she should be able to take him just fine.

Ron leaps in the air, spinning his feet over his head and landing in a dropkick that misses. It doesn't crack the floor, meaning Ron is actually not tapping into his Mystical Monkey Power like a good little boy. Kim teeters back, preparing for close-range. Ron's fists predictably swoop in, and they are easy enough to dodge, but she must admit that his noodly arms do lend themselves into some kind of drunken kung-fu gambit.

Kim quits the dodging and goes for the block, hands slapping in and out to knock his hands away. She sees the strain in Ron's face and knows that before long, he's going to get impatient and switch back to his Mystical Monkey Crap — which is when Kim actually loses.

Ron backs away, panting, a lot of his cool cucumber demeanor melting into a barely controllable rage. "KP, when I reveal _you_ to the world — do you think it's a good idea to look like that?"

Kim grins. "Ain't no reveal, m'friend." She's not fucking around, for all she knows he's on a wire and she is not taking such obvious bait. "C'mon, fuck me up."

Ron screams and — wow, does that feel good. Is this _therapy?_ She smirks, she kinda loves seeing this twerp wither. After everything he's done to her?

This is just an appetizer.

Kim backs up quickly, Ron's force now relentless. He strikes like a tank and it's difficult to keep up. But very quickly, she finds her blocking blows, bathed in moonlight. The blue moonlight illuminates how pale and sickly Ron is himself, and on the same token, she sees her white hands flying in and out. Neither are healthy, neither are supposed to be like this.

Kim hesitates, and looks past her shoulder at the drop. Sees the helicopter capturing all of this. Never in a million years would she have imagined this, risking her life, her dignity, all for Big Daddy Brotherson and Hank Perkins. Not even her real parents. But she kinda loves them like that, and just thinking about them makes her ankles sting as her whole body retracts even deeper into itself. Fuck fuck fuck.

Apparently, Ron starts to catch on to the charade and he goes for a roundhouse kick aimed high. It sweeps the fedora right off Kim's head, and the gust from the helicopter makes her hair flare like fire.

It's stupid. Kim thinks about it later and knows that the hat isn't the key to her disguise. It's the fact that she's just a fucking thirteen year old twerp.

Yet still, Kim pushes Ron to the side and leans over the edge, standing on one foot to grab the brim of the hat. She manages it with two outstretched fingers and slaps the thing back on her head.

Safe.

But then Ron comes in and strikes her in the back. It's a precision strike that burns and her whole body crumples. She flops forward and just manages to catch herself, body twisting over her arm in the complete wrong direction and slamming into the building, feet hanging above nothing. She looks up and Ron leans in, cackling softly.

"Guess this is it, huh KP?"

Kim grimaces. This sucks.

Ron plunges his hand down and squeezes his knuckle against her fingers.

She bites her lip. He's actually going to kill her. At this point, there is nothing resembling her best friend.

So Kim doesn't feel bad going for a low blow.

Her voice switches back to alto and she speaks so softly, "_Ron_."

A light goes off in Ron's eyes and he stops. For a second, the villainous piece of shit he's become fades and he looks at her with so much concern. "_KP_?"

Kim reaches up, and it hurts so much, but she touches his cheek with the hand she needs to save her life and looks at him longily. His eyes get all dreamy and it's like he's going to kiss her.

Kim's hand falls to the front of Ron's Global Justice uniform and she tears it, throttling him off the ledge and dropping him behind her. He screams and falls.

Kim moves fast, grips the edge with her second hand and pulls herself up. She rolls onto her back, panting. But she needs to move, Ron's not going to die from that, he's going to —

_Boom._

Blue light blasts up the gap between buildings like a volcano, or a reverse waterfall. Kim rolls onto her feet and sprints across the length of the room but it's not before long that something swipes at her back, cutting into her flesh, and she stumbles over. Kim manages to sneak a glance between the gap in her elbow and sees Ron floating into the room, plumes of blue pouring out of his hands, holding him high in the air, his eyes blank as two gemstones.

Ron falls to the floor and says nothing, stabbing a hand at her that sends a tendril of power lashing at her. It grips her by the throat and chokes her, dragging her across the floor, forcing her eyes to meet his. It squeezes and squeezes and when it feels like she's finally going to die — it stops ramping up and stays steady.

At first Kim thinks this is torture. She looks at Ron and sees him struggling, his eyebrows bob up and down as he clenches and re-clenches his fist, trying to get the tendril to pull tighter. She feels his phantom fingers writhe under her throat, unable to go deep enough.

Kim feels her heartbeat, feels Ron's heartbeat, and she understands.

"You can't kill me," she forgets to put on the gangster voice.

Ron frowns.

Kim repeats it, "You can't kill me. It's… it's not letting you."

Ron releases his hold and spits at the ground. "Fine, then I'll just have to use my bare hands!"

Ron swings at her again, and she's far too damaged to try dodging, even blocking. She's still struggling to get her breath steady again, but it doesn't matter: Ron misses every blow. His fists careen off in the wrong direction every single time, and she starts to notice tears coming from his eye. Blue light catches his limbs and spins them away.

Is she controlling his power? She really doesn't know, she doesn't feel much of anything right now.

Ron falls to his knees and punches the ground. "Goddammit why."

Kim doesn't need to answer that, but looking at him like this just makes her feel sorry for him. "I… don't know."

"Fuck you!"

"Clever," Kim drops down to his level and tries to find his gaze. "Come on. You don't have to do this. Global Justice is garbage, they use people as tools. That's what they did to Will, and it's going to happen to you."

Ron's eye gets all bloodshot from the sobbing.

"...I know you hate me," Kim says carefully, and she doesn't know what's motivating her to do this. She hates him, doesn't she? But she kinda likes talking others down when they don't expect her to, she likes being all naive and innocent about this whole thing like a child might. It's easier — especially when the only other choice is to put a bullet in someone's head. "But if you join me… I can help you. We can start over — with the training that is."

After all this time, Kim _still _cares about him. It makes her sick.

Ron doesn't say anything, so she nudges him. "Ron."

Finally, he looks up at her. "I may not be able to kill you, but I can kill your friends." He smiles as that truly dawns on him.

Kim tries to squeeze his shoulder but by then he disappears in a blip. Warped to somewhere else in the tower, either to kill Nong Man or her fake parents.

There's a quick succession of _ploomp_!ing as all the villains from before drop into the room with Kim, but this time — spearheaded by Yori. The villains start a charge, but Yori raises her hand, stopping them all in place. She raises her katana to Kim and moves in slowly.

Kim looks at Yori imploringly. This has to be the moment Yori turns. Please let their friendship not be a ruse.

The tip of the katana meets Kim's chest and the two girls look at each for some time. As always, Yori's face is expressionless. Kim looks away, she doesn't even really know what to say anymore. But she's not fighting Yori no matter what.

Then Yori turns, wrapping an arm gently around Kim's narrow shoulders and pointing her sword to the villains. They gasp collectively and she shakes her head. "Surprised? Anyways, you're all untrained and sloppy — you want to try us?"

The villains appear to hesitate, but then their eyes all go blank and despite how bloodied they are, they step forward. Kim's entire body tenses up; she doesn't want to keep fighting.

Then a brilliant blue light — not Ron's power — ignites and electricity crackles over all of the villains until they pass out and the room falls into dead silence beyond the whirring of the newscopter.

"Oh God," Kim runs ahead, stopping first at Motor Ed. "Don't tell me that was a kill switch." She rolls his limp body over and sees the point of frustration — a gray tablet on the back of his neck. Gently, she pries it from his skin and looks at him warily.

"_Don't worry, it's just Moodulators_."

Kim blinks and turns back. Yori's smiling at her, holding out some kind of watch that's emitting a ray of blue light. Wade smirks at her from the projection, still in his Global Justice uniform. "_But I, uh, modified them_."

Kim's mouth almost falls off her face. She runs over to Yori and looks at the projection, looking Wade in the eye. "...Wade?!"

"_Hi Kim."_

…

"Can you believe her? Freakin' scooping up my powers like some kind of leech! It really pisses me off, you know that?"

"...ahem…"

"What the Hell do you want Hank?!"

Sneering still, Hank rolls his eyes, whole body sore from being tied to a goddamn chair for so long. "I know this might come as a blow, _asshole_, but Big Daddy and I are remarkably _un_sympathetic to your cause."

Ron raises an eyebrow, drawing a knife close to Hank's throat.

Hank is nonplussed; he already knows the dude is a super powered freak. The knife is _unbecoming_. If his wrists weren't bound together, he might even gently push the jagged thing away from his cute nose. "You're trying to make us the Lois Lanes to Kimberly, and it's not gonna work."

Ron grinds his teeth, face fixed in concentration as he tries to fish out some kind of insult.

Big Daddy leans in. "Ditto — furthermore, you dumb asshole — Lois Lane is always saved."

Hank grins and mimes a kiss to his boyfriend. "Oh Big Daddy! I didn't even think of that!" He looks back to Ron. "See? Your whole — _plot_ — and note I'm doing air quotes behind my back — isn't going to work."

Ron leans in dangerously, his body practically vibrating. "Yeah? Why."

Hank rolls his eyes. "Because putting us in the opposite building is — not — clever. I mean what, did you just watch _The Dark Knight_ or something?"

Ron stares daggers. "Hey, so in that movie, The Joker like — switches hostages with clowns and — "

"WE KNOW," Big Daddy and Hank say together.

Ron facepalms. "Well, my thing is different, you know?"

Big Daddy cackles under his breath. "Sure."

Hank smiles. He kinda wishes Ron were around more often, just so he could dunk on him. Too bad he's like a nuke and way too dangerous to be around. Though he trusts that Kim will save them, he also knows — his kid might get hurt bad.

"Heh," Ron says suddenly.

Hank looks up, confused. "What?"

"You worried about your _kid_, huh?" Ron says casually.

Oh no.

No one told Hank the freak can read minds too!

Ron raises an eyebrow. "She feels the same for you — she's regressing as we speak."

"Re...gressing?" Hank sputters.

"Again?" Big Daddy blurts out.

"Ye_p_," Ron pops the P. "Too bad too, she's going to go home as a ten year old tonight and neither of you are going to be able to read her a story."

"Oh golly, really?" Hank drawls. "Please. Your whole scheme is just to kill us? Dumb. Boring. Been done! I can think of far more clever ways to get that done for you."

"...Like?"

"Broadcast our deaths on television, duh," Hank says.

Big Daddy nods. "Or do like — mind television — in Kimberly's head. You can do that, right?"

Ron folds a hand to his stubby chin.

"We're being sarcastic, asshole," Hank chortles.

Ron blinks and stamps at the ground. "Fuck you. You know, I really should just kill — "

A voice chimes in Ron's earpiece. It's difficult to pick up, but Hank can faintly hear a frosty lady yelling at him. "_Don't kill them now, I didn't put millions into your idiotic scheme for you to go all Rambo."_

Ron's face goes scarlet and unfortunately, he happens to see Hank watching him with a gaze that's too present, so he walks off to get the sound away from them.

Big Daddy nudges Hank with his elbow. "Hank, c'mon. Amateur hour. At least look at your shoes or something when they catch you, you dummy."

Hank purses his lips. "Ugh, Big Daddy, if we live through this, I am _not_ playing silly games with you tonight."

Hank turns back to Ron and though he can't quite hear the conversation anymore…

…

...Wade can.

"_I have an idea, and you are going to try it," _Betty Director says coolly. It makes Wade's skin crawl.

"_I don't — alright, fine. What do you have for me?_" Ron grumbles. "_Kim's fake 'rents are getting mouthy_."

Oof, Ron, don't tell her that, she's just going to —

"_Wow_," Betty is just so damn unimpressed. "_Okay, so for the record — you __**can't**__ kill Kimberly Ann?_"

Ron says nothing, probably the best move he could make in such a conversation.

"_Okay, great,_" Betty sighs. "_You have hang-ups — you're just as bad as that little brat. Whatever, Stoppable, I need you to __**let go.**_"

"_L-let go?_"

"_Yes, give into your inner beast, __**do some damage**__, make a scene, I don't know._"

"_But… I don't see how that..._"

"_Let the power consume you._"

"_Isn't that what you were telling me about…_" Oh shit, he's gonna ask about Will.

"_Yes. It is."_

"_Ah,"_ Ron sighs. So he knows what actually happened now.

"_If you focus hard enough — oh, you're spacing out. I can see it in your brain patterns_," Betty says, which also means that Ron has been Moodulatored just like everyone else at Global Justice.

"_Yeah, sorry,"_ Ron grunts. "_Sensei, talking. Sh."_

"_Tell that old piece of shit to use a fucking walkie for once in his goddamned life."_

Well, that's as good of a time as any for Wade to punch out and warn Kim about…

…

...the empty room Kim just walked into. Well, almost empty. Nong Man is tied to a chair at the center, his eye bruised. Kim shakes her head and walks over to him, slapping him gently on the cheek. Eying the windows carefully, she slips back into that Towtruck Stanson voice.

She's suspecting a trap after all — Wade's data said that Big Daddy and Hank were being held here, and that's clearly not the case.

"Wake up, asshole," Kim grunts.

Nong Man comes to fast, thankfully, and grins at Kim, blood seeping between his teeth. "Damn — I'm gonna blow up that Stopstop motherfucker."

Kim rolls her eyes, "Yeh, I'm thinkin' dat might be a solution." She gazes past his shoulder. "Wade, talk to us."

Nong Man winces. "Wade? Aw shit — he turned finally, and oh — hey Yori! Hell yeah, I was wondering about that one too. Look at us, the gang's all here. Who woulda thought? Not me — "

"Hey Nong Man," Kim growls.

Nong Man frowns. This is code for: "_Hang on, man_. Yeah I'll stop."

Shaking her head, Kim shakes her Kimmunicator up and down. So weird using the stupid thing again. "Yori, can you free Nong Man?"

"Yeah, if you stop talking to us like a gangster," Yori says playfully. "What are you? Christian Bale in _The Dark Knight?_"

Kim narrows her eyes. "Ey, fucko, I'm _in-character_, ya get?"

Yori puts on a low guttural tone. "_This is an audio sample. If he talks within range of any phone in the city, you can triangulate his position."_

"Oh, the scene with Lucius near the end?" Nong Man pipes in. "Yeah, that was weird."

Kim rolls her eyes. "Wade, can you please fuckin' — "

Blue light shoots up in a ray, showing a very sweaty and worried Wade. "_Sorry, Betty's talking to Ron and I was listening in_ — "

"Anything juicy?" Kim sneers.

"Yeah, he's planning something bad, I think he's gonna blast the whole building and — "

Yori rests her palm on Kim's wrist, looking down at her warily. "Wade — check the maps. I'm sensing something."

"_Can do."_

Wade's face dissipates and is replaced with a 3D map of the skyscraper and all of a sudden, white dots appear all over. They move in fast towards the room that the gang is in.

"Don't fuckin' tell me," Kim growls.

"Yep, it's a trap," Yori sighs. "We need to move. Fast."

Kim raises an eyebrow. So they were planning on ambushing them in this room. Why? Kim figured this whole thing was a set-up to make her watch her parents get shot, oh God, don't call them your parents, it makes everything worse…

Kim blinks, realizing something. "Wade, I fuckin' love ya, but ya need to hightail it from wherever you are. My people will find you, don't worry."

"_What?_" Wade blurts out. "_Why would I need to—_"

The blue light goes blood red and the map swirls into itself until it lands into a projection of Doctor Betty Director's head. She sneers at the group. Before she begins to drawl in her usual way, Kim locks eyes with Yori, silently asking, "_Did you get a good read on the map?"_

"_Yes,"_ Yori's eyes say.

Kim reaches into Nong Man's jacket and pulls out a revolver, tossing it to Yori's hand. Already, Kim can see an unearthly blue glow kicking up across the chasm and in the next building. That's where Ron and her parents — fuck — are. "Fuck 'em up," Kim rasps and looks back to Betty.

"_Kimberly Ann is correct, Wade, that you might want to run_," Betty sneers. "_And furthermore _— "

The hologram shifts again, and now it's an image of an old decrepit man with a booming voice. " _**— that goes for you too, Yori-san. I'm greatly disappointed in you.**_"

That's proof in the pudding — Sensei and Director are definitely working together. That's probably how Ron got looped into this nonsense.

Kim looks out at the blue light again. It's huge now, like its own patch of sky and if she narrows her eyes, she can make out cracks forming in the window holding back the blue. Whatever Ron is about to do is going to do a lot of damage, but at least he can't kill her.

Kim slaps her hand over the hologram, blotting out the images. "Wade — amscray. We're good now, we reconvene later, Nong Man, Yori, you're — "

The two cock their guns.

" — fuck yeah, okay. I take on the Big Kahuna," Kim finishes.

"Big Kahuna?" Nong Man stops in place, already at the exit. He looks back at her. "You gotta work on your mobster vernacular, kid."

Kim smiles and looks back to the blow. It's crossing the way now, it's about to strike into her window and consume her. She readies herself for it, for the devastation. Then she's going to go take out Ron, save her parents, find Wade, and call it a day.

The blue gets close fast.

Kim braces herself.

The blue lights up the whole window, bathes it in sapphire, and it all cracks at once. The noise is almost deafening.

But something's wrong.

The tendril stays on course, it doesn't writhe or fall off position from impact with the wall. It focuses on Kim, the power throbbing in waves, shades of blue constantly shifting. As it draws nearer, Kim senses something else wrong — when Ron's influence is close she feels his heartbeat, sometimes even sees his eyes.

But she doesn't right now. It's just her and this — thing. It scares her.

She leaps, vaults over the blast. It trails up to follow her, she throws her body into a flop, moves over it. Yet the tip of the tendril curls back over itself, shifting into an S curve that flies into Kim.

There's a moment when it passes through that Kim feels like she's floating, the power as warm and tepid as bath water while it surrounds her.

It tenses — pinches her muscles into place, freezes her. Little feelers extend from the skin of the beast and work their way into her mind, slipping past the brain and planting itself into the cracks between lobes. There's this high pitched keening that vibrates Kim's mind, voices that slip in and out, whispering.

_Are you…_

_...are you her?_

_...you her?_

_Are…_

_...her?_

Kim can't lie, can't tell Ron it's not her. Somehow, this thing knows, and this thing can hurt her while he can't. She tries to scream but nothing comes up. The power burns and bops and sizzles and chatters and mocks.

_Don't you know how to control us? You mastered us before and now you cower at the hint of our color._

Kim doesn't hear it, she sees the words burn into her memory.

She rockets towards the ceiling, her body spinning 'round and 'round.

They laugh. She sees it in the air. _Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha._

Kim hits the ceiling and the thing bursts into rubble, a chunk of stone knocking her loose from the power's grasp. She hits the ground, all of her limbs burning. She can hardly move, it takes everything she has to kick the cement off her, but she just flops back. Everything above her is a blur. Gray and brown tumble down.

She thinks that the tendril is ecstatic, little sunspots of wrath blow off it in its terrible wrath. It blasts through the ceiling two stories above. Brick and mortar and dust scatter everywhere and when it taps the lip to the next floor it cuts through, it bounces off like a stone skipping over water. It curves and throws itself back down, drilling around itself now.

When it hits Kim, this will be fatal.

She throws her head back, struggling to breath, tips of her fingers pushing against the sticky blood coming from her scars. She cocks her head to the side and looks at the blue coming down intently.

It's so close she can feel its phantom feelers on her cheeks, making certain that the target is within sights.

Kim thinks, thinks about what tonight means — what this thing between her and Ron is really about and how after all this time, she still has sympathy for that fucking piece of —

Blue light surrounds Kim and she almost chokes in expectation. But it's for nothing, she's fine. The power around her is tepid and calm. She doesn't feel angry like she did earlier, if anything she feels _alive_.

The blue tenses, but it doesn't hurt her, she just feels it push more against her body. It's kinda funny actually, that all this power and Ron can't even...

It just doesn't hurt.

It's like a boulder falling on someone slowly sinking underwater. Kim looks at the ceiling blankly, her grin widening.

...

Confused, so confused, this is so supposed to be ultimate power, so why can't it shatter a mere mortal. From the mass extends a smaller tendril and it reaches out for Kim, it touches her jaw roughly, making her look up. She touches it with her finger, fingertip lightly brushing the tendril.

Her touch is like a child's, she is a child. What did it do to her? It remembers when it twisted through her body and made her into this little trans girl, it knows it's responsible yet her touch back is so gentle. Earlier she was mean and violent, she hit things and bloodied people. Now she giggles.

It kicks up its power, instability rocketing through its form, and touches her cheeks, it moves to drill into her mind to find out what exactly is going on, but her forehead bobs up and nuzzles against it so lovingly. It can't breach, it can't go in.

Why?

She should want to kill Ron, destroy the magic, destroy _it_. But instead, she nuzzles against it like an over-excited cat.

How can she not see how terrible it is?

It touches Kim's eyes, longs to push them through the sockets and burst them. It feels these gooey molds. She does not cry, she does not even want to, it senses.

She has control.

How can she have control?

She speaks, but her words are foreign to it. A dull throb really, but the consonants are soft and she reaches out again, and it feels itself softening, almost dissipating.

It cannot… it cannot… no… allow this…

…

The blue flies off her, its form ripping into slats of white that cut at the air around it. A scream unlike anything Kim has ever heard blasts into her ears. It's a high-pitched snarl only a beast could make and in its agony, it turns away from Kim and spirals away, tearing through the next wall, taking the banshee wail with it.

Kim brushes herself off. She is sort of surprised that worked. She cracks her head to look at Ron across the way, and sees his still body weeping. She kicks herself back to her feet and looks so hard at him, thinking. This is probably him at his most vulnerable. If she did kill him… it would stop the power.

But —

— she feels sorry for him, even though she knows she shouldn't. That scream the tendril made reminds Kim of how she feels inside and she knows there is something that can be done to help Ron because he is kind of like her in a way.

Besides, love apparently trumps all because that's sort of what just happened. So she might as well ride out this Power of Love thing while she still can.

Kim hates herself for still feeling that. She knows the others would laugh at her, but still, she chases the blue. She can't let it hurt her friends.

…

The deeper Kim goes into the building, the more dilapidation she finds it. By the time she is in the same 'room' as Yori and Nong Man, the tip of her shoes are just pushing off the edge of a broken floor. Below is a drop-off to a room three stories below, and man is that hole gaping. Some floor remains and hugs the walls, but that's about it. Ceiling and wall have collapsed as the tendril has split into two spikes of rage that twirl at Yori and Nong Man, the two of them both scratched with strikes that look like they came from a whip.

Fucking _enough_, already.

Kim opens her mouth to say something cool, like — "Hey asshole! Front and center!" But Nong Man stops her beforehand by putting a finger to his fat lips, earning him a slap from the Mystical Monkey Power. He flies up against a solid wall, and slumps back down. Flashes his teeth and lunges back in.

Kim furrows her brow and searches the room, finding the problem fast. Beyond the gaps in the floor is an actual news crew, standing on the precipice of the building, shooting all of it. Like — within a few feet of death. This Mystical Monkey Tendril shit is hardly sentient and Goddamit, they are… Kim looks back to the power and shit — Yori's getting hit hard.

Spit lining between her lips, Kim at least has to try something, "Hey fucko! Eat my asshole, huh?" she tries to yell in baritone but her voice is comically high. She cringes; she still _sounds_ boyish, but it's really obvious she's prepubescent now.

There's a waver in the tendril that breaks its pattern, but it doesn't seem to recognize her as its true target. Christ. Kim leers at the camera, and reaches into her jacket and very cooly pulls out a machine gun.

...yeah. Kim's packin'.

She trains it on the news crew. "Get the fuck outta here before dis schmuck kills youze," she sneers in that Towtruck Stanson voice. "Or maybe I'll have to do it m'self." It makes her feel so gross, to threaten innocent lives like that. But she can't fucking get the power's attention without being, y'know, _Kim Possible_.

The news crew shakes and move the camera onto her. What the fuck?! Okay, now they are going to themselves killed.

And whaddaya know, Kim just _had _to get the courageous news guys instead of the usual ensemble.

Kim rolls her eyes and leaps across a ten foot gap in flooring to reach them. The crew shuffles back. Oh, _now_ they're scared. She grits her teeth, she's like, super on-camera now, and kicks her boot at the tripod. Hurts like Hell but she snaps a leg. The news people yell at her but she waves them off, grabbing the camera by the lens and pulling it forward and past her shoulder. She hopes she's catching the image of the blue tendrils well enough.

"Dis is what they're fackin' doin' ova at Global Justice," Kim shouts. "We're tryna save youze morons!"

God, the younger she gets, the worse that is on her throat. Ugh.

Kim knows she probably looks like an asshole, and it's going to suck if it gets out that this brat and Kim Possible are one in the same. She looks back to the camera and punches it really hard, breaking it. Hurts her goddamn fist. Sullenly, she throws the scrap metal to the ground and looks to the crew, turning her gun back on them. "Now get the fuck outta here. I'm serious, boyos— there we go. That's good kids, eh?"

Kim turns back to the disaster. More of the floor has crumbled away, it's a wonder the building is even stable. The ceiling is already collapsing and moon light pours down the dead center of the room like it's some kind of beam from a UFO.

"Hey!" Kim tries again, nearly hacking a lung from all the mobster talk. "Ron — leave them alone. It's me you want, isn't it?"

The tendrils hesitate, then turn on her. They ram into the ceiling, merging into an overhang that sends out little spikes that morph into copies of Ron that land on the floor in crouched positions. Oh what the fuck, seriously?!

One Ron looks at her and cackles, a cartoonish smirk cracking its head in literal twos. It runs at her vaulting over a new twenty foot gap. Kim tries to get a quick count — — nope, too slow she needs to fight now. She goes hand-to-hand with the monster, and tries to be offensive but as more and more Ron doppelgangers land on her little patch of the building, she finds herself overwhelmed.

They lash at her like demons, or goblins. They move fast and their power is like nothing she has ever faced. They're definitely mindless but it doesn't quite matter when there are so many of them.

They swipe their hands like they are talons and boy do they hurt. They tear through her clothes and scratch at her skin and _burn_. She growls and punches through the crowd and hits one in the throat. It sputters and falls back, sinking back into a wisp of energy that flies back into the mass of blue.

Kim frowns and turns on the crowd; she gets some swings in and each strike kills one, but more come in their place and besides, she is leaving herself open. She gets surrounded again on the defense and it feels like she is going to die. The stone under her shoes cracks and it's impossible to get farther from the break when surrounded. She wants to spit or yell or something; she needs to kill the leader that won't stop smirking at her.

But if she goes for the kill, they'll off her first.

So Kim is smarter, she lets two go for the kill themselves. They miss and she grabs their wrists; the Mystical Monkey Power burns through her gloves and reddens her palms but that's okay. Kim swings herself up and brings her feet down on their shoulders and looking over them, grabs her machine gun again. Bites her lip and lets the bullets fly.

They all dissipate into puffs of blue smoke fast, leaving her mano y mano with the leader. She falls to the floor, the stone cracked in a V shape. She gasps for air and raises the gun to the leader's ugly head, praying for an easy conclusion but its arm fast lashes out twelve feet and slams clean through the machine gun. It tumbles from her hands and falls; Kim makes the mistake of watching it fall three stories before cracking apart at the first stable flooring.

Kim bites her lip and tries to focus. The wind of the night passes over, wavering her loose clothing. Her blazer balances on her shoulders and it pisses her off so much that she shrunk even more tonight. Like why? Why does this happen when she's near Ron? Ugh, but she can't think like that, she winces as the leader crackles in her rage, building bigger and bigger in size. It's hard for Kim to not be pissed, so she just needs to end this.

Kim vaults off the stone and lands on a patch of floor hugging one of the walls. The leader cackles in a high-pitched gurgle like a baby's, and runs at her.

It growls under its breath, slashing what looks to be the Lotus Blade at the air impulsively, but launches itself at her, aiming to cleave her head in two.

Kim spits at the ground and moves in. If she can just hit it before it gets her but — no, too slow. The sword is faster. She winces, anticipating a fast and sudden death but nothing comes. Instead she feels leather roll against her fingers and when she looks at her hand, she sees that she is holding the Lotus Blade now.

An old man whispers in her ear, something faint, something she doesn't understand. It's hard to focus, she's confused and she needs to kill this awful creature. But this is real, right? Not a construct of the Mystical Monkey Power, it's the actual Lotus Blade?

The leader is dumbfounded, it spits and hisses and lunges at her with its hands.

Kim blinks and stabs at its throat, ending it. But when this one disappears, it crackles into waves of white and explodes like an atom bomb, the reaches of its explosion setting the ceiling of blue wavering like the ocean. It crackles like a storm and then comes that banshee wail again. But in reverse. Somehow.

It collects itself back into an orb and rips backwards. It passes through Kim, but she doesn't feel all too much. She should for sure, her hair blows in the gust of the power and her wounds are irritated.

It has something to do with the Lotus Blade.

When all is said and done, Kim raises the Lotus Blade to her eye and looks at it warily.

"Since when?" Yori says.

Kim lowers the blade and sees that Yori must have jumped twenty feet over the chasm of crumbling flooring to get to her so fast. Yori seems upset. Must be pissed about the Lotus Blade if she's not asking Kim why she is suddenly thirteen years old without explanation.

"I don't know," Kim says, "This is new."

"Not your first time using it though," Nong Man says, strutting past her with his hands in his pockets.

Yori raises an eyebrow. "When did you — "

"Yamanouchi break-in," Kim sighs. "But… why did…"

"I don't know," Yori frowns, taking Kim by the wrist. Kim kinda flinches because usually a wrist grab means hitting but Yori's touch is gentle. The touch to her shoulder is not — it's strong, fingers digging deep with caution. "Well… let's take advantage of it while we're still against Stoppable-san but after this…"

Kim frowns. Part of her plan involves collection of the most powerful weapons in the world, but Yori's right. It's not good to be so near this thing. Kim nods. "Yeah. I'm with you on that. Hey, I'm glad you're both safe."

"I'm surprised you came back for us," Yori admits. She blinks. "God, you look so young."

Kim frowns. "I know."

"I'm worried about you," she says.

Kim takes Yori by the shoulder, metal of the sword pushing against her own collarbone. "Don't be scared, I'm okay. We're going to go save my parents now."

It's so simple, what she just said, and it doesn't sound right coming off her tongue. But she just wants it to be simple, to be easy.

…

The hostage room is far worse than Kim had envisioned. Ron struts back and forth with such manic energy, phantom chains wrapped 'round his wrists curving across the floor, hooked around Kim's parents' necks.

Hank is the worse looking one by far. The black eye looks especially bad on him, and his normally prim clothing is shredded and ratty on his thin shoulders. Not to say Big Daddy is really any better — he also looks like Hell. Both of them attempt to say something when Ron drags the chains against their necks.

"Ron, stop it!" Kim blurts out stepping forward.

Ron holds a hand flat to the air and grimaces, thumb pulling on a chain that makes Hank's face go purple. "No no no, Kim — don't you dare. Don't move a muscle."

Kim sighs, shoulders falling back into place. This is insane, and she has to negotiate? God dammit, what does he want?

Ron's eyes narrow. "Ah, so — Yori. Finally switched, huh? Well — uh, good riddance! I never needed you anyways."

Yori frowns. Kim feels sort of sorry for her, this must be a lot harder on her than it is for Kim. Yori knows Ron is bad, but this is still so hard to watch.

"_It's me too, Ron_," Wade chirps in. "_I'm with Kim now_."

Ron turns away, and Kim sees the wrinkles under his eyes. He's so _tired_. "Whatever. If you losers would side with _her_ — " he pauses as his bulged out eye pivots to Kim " — then it's no loss to me."

"Ron, let them go," Kim urges. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?! How? You're nothing like me! You don't even measure up, I'm a _God_ now."

Nong Man rests a hand on Kim's shoulder, as if to say, _Don't take the bait, Kim. Save our friends._

"You're taking orders from other people," Kim rasps. "You're being manipulated — just like I was by Shego—"

"Don't you DARE compare yourself to me!" Ron shrieks, his voice so shrill. He gnashes his teeth and this time, Hank audibly chokes as the chains tighten around his throat. Ron smirks, resting his hands on Hank's shoulders and looking over to Kim. "I went to the Bermuda Triangle to kill _you_ — but you weren't in yet and I thought, hey. Why not kill her bosses? Ha, but I had no idea that you saw these two as your _parents_."

Kim steps forward. "Fuck you, you don't get to judge me. You never tried to understand what I've gone through."

Ron shrugs. "Nah, I haven't. I guess I'm just shocked that it's these two, I figured you'd have some whack dad complex with Drakken if it was anybody."

Kim winces and looks at the ground, thinking. Ron never took her belief in Drakken seriously, and doesn't get that even now — it was _never_ about Drakken.

Kim reaches into her jacket and pulls out a revolver. Trains it on Ron's head. Clicks the trigger, or whatever the fuck it is that makes it go _Click!_ all badass like. Ron laughs. Kim clicks it again. "Don't make me do it."

"What? Shoot me?" Ron laughs, puffing out his chest. "A bullet ain't gonna do shit to me, Kim."

"He's right, Kim," Yori mutters.

Kim ignores her. "I will fucking shoot you Ron if you don't free them right now."

Ron grins, and pulls tight on the chains. Hank gasps like a dying animal sputtering under a boot.

"Drop the gun," Ron cackles. "And maybe I'll think about letting them walk."

Kim bites her lip. "Ron."

"C'mon, KP. I thought you were servile? Or do I need to kiss you first?"

Panting, lips going blue, Hank tries to say something to her but no words come out. Big Daddy looks to Kim. "Honey, please…"

Ron raises an eyebrow and releases his hold on Big Daddy, bringing both to Hank and pulling his head back. Kim can't watch any longer, can't let him get away, but she knows one thing — if Ron is picking out weakest links like that, then he's no better than Shego.

Kim shuts her eyes and pulls the trigger.

Everyone shouts something at her, except Ron who just mutters something about what an idiot Kim must be.

Blue light blasts like a lightning bolt, forcing Kim's eyes open. She watches the bullet morph into the Lotus Blade and winces when it strikes clean through Ron's chest. The revolver disappears in a puff of magic and Kim's hands fall to her side.

Ron falls back, sword clean through his chest and out the back. Blood spills everywhere and his right arm stops working, lays slack against the floor, his head falling to the side. He screams and it's so loud and upsetting and — she looks away, spotting the telltale blood that shows what she just did. Shakes her head and tries to keep it together. Tries to be strong for everyone else. But holy shit she just shot her best friend through the chest...

Yori grips Kim by the arm. "Did you just…"

Kim's whole body thumps against Yori, and she feels her head is lower than it's supposed to be. She looks at her chest and sees folds in the blouse where flesh should be. Everything is wrinkling. Her face is getting rounder and her body is rapidly retracting into itself. She doesn't want it, she thinks really hard about how she doesn't want to get any younger than she already is. She steps forward and looks at Ron

"He'll live," Kim says, almost disappointed. She doesn't really know how she knows he'll live, she just does.

Kim falls to her bony knees and presses a hand to Ron's cheek. Her hand is so small, it's hard to see past the sleeve. No one says a word, and Kim feels this horrible strain in her chest. It burns, the bones get brittle and she feels sick to her stomach. She hates herself, hates that she could do this to someone, that she couldn't find any other way out —

— she can't take it anymore.

Kim lets it happen.

The hold on her chest releases and she shrinks so fast, and feels it this time for once. Feels the skin soften, the chest flatten, the hair retract back into her skull, and when it's over she's a sobbing eight year old boy. Her clothes dwarf her and everything is big, she feels so scared and confused. Kim looks to Ron's placid face and touches his cheek. "You'll be okay," she whispers, trying not to look at the sword. "It's okay, you'll be — "

Someone grabs Kim by the hand and lifts her to her feet, it's hard for her to focus around all of these people. They look so much more mature than her — are they going to tell her what to do? Because she's confused and hurt, why did she do that to her best friend?

Big Daddy makes to grab Hank, but Hank stumbles off the chair fast, tripping over what looks to be a sprained ankle. He falls into Kim and her head thunks against his abdomen. He grips her by the back of the head and looks down at her so lovingly. "I'm so fucking proud of you. Kim, hang in there, please."

Kim blinks and some tears are coming in really hard. Why are they happy about what she just did? She was mean and they are telling her they love her.

Yori scoops Kim off her feet and cradles her. Kim's legs slip out of the pants and she falls into the curve of Yori's arm like a baby. Her bare legs touch Yori's sleeve and she gets kind of flustered, because she has a big crush on Yori. And she's really little now.

"You're going to be okay, we're going to help you, Kim," Yori says seriously, looking to Nong Man. "You're in charge now."

That's good, Kim's happy someone else is in charge. She can't handle it all anymore, she's a little kid.

Nong Man raises his eyebrows and reloads his revolver. "Cute, but we gotta fuckin' amscray. We just hit Global Justice's boy, and I'm giving us ten minutes before we're swarmed by a new batch of expendables."

"_Crude,_" Wade sighs. "_But he's not wrong_."

Kim takes a peek at Ron's pale face on the floor and she feels really sad again. She almost cries but Big Daddy smartly steps in front of it, looking Kim dead in the eye. "I'm also proud of you. Hold on just a bit longer, darling."

Kim laughs even though she doesn't think anything is actually funny, and she reaches out for her Daddy. He holds her tight and she wraps her little arms around his big shoulders. She's so little now, it feels right through. Is this okay though? She's not supposed to be a little girl, she's supposed to be an adult and tell people what to do. She looks to Yori for help, and Yori touches little Kim's cheek.

"It's okay, you're okay, we love you Kim," Yori says, straining to smile for her friend. Kim can tell, she may be a child but she's still emotionally aware. She starts to feel guilty as some of her consciousness drifts back into her head desperate to be empty.

There is gunfire. Everyone bows down and Yori turns her back to it all, shielding Kim from the onslaught. "Look at my eyes, Kim," Yori says. Kim tries to, the bullets whizz by over Yori's head and it's so scary. Everything is blowing up and bursting.

Something hits Yori's arm and blood splashes onto Kim's face. "Motherfucker!" Yori growls, pulling out the revolver Kim gave her earlier and going ham on the Global Justice agents swarming in.

Kim gets to her feet, bare feet on the dirty floor. Her blouse almost falls off, but she catches it in time and clutches the front to her chest, her sleeves flapping uselessly. One by one, the Global Justice agents fall. More and more, her friends push forward until eventually, Yori reaches back. "Kim, come on!"

Kim blinks and holds out her hand, pushing her elbow past the sleeve. Yori grabs Kim and pulls her along. Kim does her best to keep up.

The last thing she sees is Ron's single eye staring back at her. He's about to pass out again, but his smile is sharklike.

He grits his teeth. "_Loser_."


	16. What You Want

_TW: ptsd, age regression, nudity_

* * *

Being eight years old again is kinda fun, or rather, it's hard for it to not be fun.

**Rhino and Yori's House: San Francisco  
Wednesday: Lunchtime!**

After they get back from Sacramento, Kim's parents go off to work to discuss some stuff. Kim is a little worried about it, because she thinks she's in trouble. She knows that not everyone is happy about what happened… with her turning into a child at the end othet mission. But Yori keeps squeezing Kim's hand and telling her that it's okay and her feelings are valid.

Kim struggles to understand what that means, _your feelings are valid_, but it makes her head hurt.

Kim jumps up and down on Yori's bed, dressed in her pastel pink jammies that Yori and Rhino got for her. Yori looks so tired, like maybe she should take a nap, but Kim is wide awake! She's having too much fun to go to sleep.

But after going up and down for a while, Kim slows down and looks at Yori who is nodding off on the floor. Kim frowns, she knows Yori should get some rest but she really wants to keep playing. It's kind of confusing, and it makes her head hurt. It sort of feels like there's two people inside her head right now.

Kim stumbles off the bed and walks up to Yori, moving in for a tickle attack. Yori wakes up and her head jerks back with laughter. She tumbles over her hip and falls on the floor. Kim grins and tickles Yori even harder, but then Yori's legs snap out and sandwich Kim between her knees. Gently, Yori throws Kim across the floor and plows her own fingers into Kim and — wow, Kim laughs and laughs and laughs. She wishes she did more stuff like this when she was an adult.

Kim ends up getting so excited so that her legs just sort of start moving around and ah! — she starts crying because it's all so much. Once she starts gasping for air, her face beet red, Yori gently lifts Kim back up — Kim likes being carried — and places her back on the mattress Rhino put out for them.

"Thanks Yori," Kim says in her small voice. It's still sort of weird hearing such a high, soft sound come from her mouth. Her speech isn't too good either. There's a bunch of words in her head but she can't remember how to pronounce a lot of them.

Yori smiles and reaches out, nuzzling Kim's hair. But her eyes look kinda sad. There are these deep wrinkles that makes Yori look a lot older than she really is.

"Yori, why are you sad?" Kim asks.

Yori blinks, caught off-guard apparently. She doesn't seem to get how good Kim is at reading people, even when she is eight years old. "Um… I… I mean, are you happy like this, Kim?"

"Um," Kim bites her lip. "I'm having fun with you. You know, you shouldn't feel bad and stuff, because we're — "

"I'm not talking about right now," Yori sighs, and Kim feels kinda dumb for not understanding.

"Oh," Kim frowns. "Sorry."

Yori's face is so angular and smooth. She looks really mature and it's weird because Kim knows her face used to be like that too — but now it's all round and plain and stuff, which makes her feel like a baby in comparison.

"I know that… you didn't do this to yourself on purpose," Yori says. "I know you're trying."

Kim feels really bad now. She doesn't want to be like Ron and hurt a bunch of people's feelings. That's not very nice at all. "I'm sorry for being a bad friend."

Yori's eyes get all wide and she touches Kim's small shoulder. She kinda likes how just one of Yori's hands is enough to cover Kim's arm like that. "You're not… I think that… a lot of us have seen you suffering — "

Kim tilts her head to the side, furrows her brow. She's confused.

" — we've seen how sad you've been," Yori corrects herself. "And we didn't do anything to help you, and I think… this is your coping mechanism."

That kinda makes sense to Kim. It's hard because last night she had all these neat thoughts and feelings, and they're all still there in her mind, it's just harder to dig them out. She nods, not really sure what to say to Yori at all. If this is what she has to do to feel less sad though, then she's kind of embarrassed.

"Even if you decide to grow back up again, Kim, we have to get help for you. You need to see a doctor."

"That's not fair!" Kim blurts out. She tries to hold it back but it's really hard when you're a kid. "I don't want to keep seeing doctors, it's not my fault! I didn't even want to turn into a kid, I just got really scared and…" She feels that particular clamminess in her chest again, it constricts her like a snake and she caves into it. She can't resist.

She starts crying immediately, that's the one thing she doesn't like, it's a lot easier for her to cry right now and crying's not fun. It hurts her throat and it's just really embarrassing. She doesn't like how immature her voice is when she's crying, how uncontrollable it is. It makes her feel like she really is eight years old.

"You're sick, Kim," Yori touches Kim's head, fingers wrapping around her short, boyish hair and massaging her head. "You're pretty beat-up too. Like you still have all your scars…"

Yeah, Kim still has scars, like the star-shaped one on her tummy. It's pretty scary to look at.

"...and a doctor could help you be less sad," Yori explains. "If you have to do this to cope, that's okay, but… I don't know, is this what you want?"

Kim dips her chin down. "I dunno. I feel really confused."

"I know, I do too," Yori whispers. "I have to head out… Big Daddy and Hank want to talk to me."

It's weird hearing their names like that. In her head, those are her daddies. They haven't spoken to her at all since everything that happened, it makes Kim feel kinda crummy. She loves her daddies, but only Yori wants to hang out with her.

"Can you come back, Yori?" Kim asks. "I wanna play with you some more… um, I mean…"

"Yeah, I'm going to live here with you and Rhino for a while," Yori says and that makes Kim feel really excited again! Yori's going to be with her and won't go away again, they can just be friends and… and… "At least until things sort themselves out."

Kim knows what that means — Yori is saying she'll stay with them until Kim grows up and becomes an adult again, but she doesn't want that to be true. They keep talking about it like she knows how to reverse the magic, but she doesn't. She doesn't even want to be an eight year old, even though it has been kinda fun so far.

Yori looks sad, and Kim knows why it makes her sad, she probably doesn't like seeing her friend fade away like this. She gives Kim's head a few more gentle scratches.

"Yori," Kim says to get her friend's attention. "I love you."

Kim's voice shimmers like a gentle tide, and she doesn't really understand what she's saying. There's a deeper voice at the back of her head telling her to tell Yori how much she cares for her and values her,, but Kim on the outside doesn't really get it. Of course she loves Yori! She loves all of her friends.

Yori frowns again, and Kim feels bad because she made Yori sad.

Then Kim yawns. Uh oh.

Yori cracks a grin and moves over to the blinds, turning them so the room is a lot darker. "Little lady, you need to get some sleep."

"But…"

"No buts, Kimmie," Yori giggles, gently gripping Kim by the flat hips and moving her over to the floor. Her arms plow through the bed sheets fast, flattening them out after Kim spent so much time jumpin' on them. "Little girls need to get a lot of sleep."

"Oh, okay," Kim sighs, climbing in. If she sits on her knees, she's eye level with Yori. They just sort of stare at each for a while, and then Kim's cheeks go all pink. She feels really embarrassed again, but she just has to do it, so leans in to kiss Yori and her mind gets all confused again.

Kim ends up kissing Yori on the lips, and Yori's face goes pink in return. Does that mean… !

"Kimmie," Yori says softly. "Um, if you want to kiss me, um — oof, sorry."

Kim waits patiently for Yori to say something. Does Yori like-like Kim back?

"You can kiss me, Kim," Yori says in a stronger voice, a more commanding one. "But you need to be an adult… if you're going to be little… um…"

Oh.

"Sorry," Kim sighs, her cheeks switching from a pink glow to a red one. Oops. Yori's gonna hate her forever now, oh why did she have to kiss her?

"It's okay, your head is all jumbled, I think it's okay for you to be confused," Yori presses her hand to Kim's chest, and Yori's hand is so big and strong. Kim's chest is flat and soft. She falls over like one of her cats when she starts to pet their butt, and Yori tucks Kim in to the bed sheets. Kim likes how warm the sheets are, she's just gonna get scared when Yori leaves. But she won't tell Yori that, she needs to be a big girl for her friend.

"I'll come back after talking to your daddies, and we can play okay?" Yori asks, leaning in and pecking Kim on the forehead. It makes Kim feel all kinds of flustered, she doesn't wanna be kissed there, she wants her crush to… um… Kim can't remember what adults do with each other actually. If anything, it's probably kinda icky. Kissing is gross too!

Kim giggles instead because Yori's kiss kinda tickles, and she nuzzles deep into the blankets, reaching out for one of the stuffed animals Yori bought her.

Yori looks sad again though, and Kim doesn't know why. Maybe Yori's worried about talking to her parents, she bets they're awfully mad at her… she just wishes they'd yell at her and not Yori. It's not her fault.

Kim wants to say more stuff to Yori but she falls asleep pretty fast. She wakes up a few hours later, and she's along. She feels kinda bad for falling asleep, that wasn't very nice of her. She wanted to tell Yori how much she loves her — so she texts Yori. It takes a really long time though, Kim doesn't remember to spell some of her adult words and she thinks that something is wrong with the text in general.

_Yori i love you so much and im realy exsited we get to liv togever and b frends and can we watch a movie tonite i think thatll b fun! I love you _

Like it looks kinda long and she thinks it's missing something, but she can't really tell what that is. Maybe it's fine! Kim thinks it's a good message so she sends it off to Yori, smiling to herself, thinking about what fun she'll get to have when Yori comes back home.

* * *

"Yori, so good to see you. Any progress with her?"

"No… um, I learned she has a crush on me."

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California  
April 30, 2008: 12:55PM**

Yori looks up from her lap with weary eyes; she hasn't slept in a while and it's starting to eat away at her. She almost asked Kim if they could take a nap together, but she knows she wouldn't be able to sleep. If anything, she's almost jealous that Kim got to sleep so fast, and gosh, she slept like an angel. She's so precious when she's like this… but… still.

Yori eyes the room and tries to recollect herself before saying anything. It's bizarre though — she _just_ jumped into the Bermuda Triangle and already she's in a room with the top dogs and they're exhausted. Probably because the boys want the girl to be the one to take care of the kid. Really, Yori just wants to go out on a mission and do something violent.

She wanted to spend time with Kim, but… not like this.

Hank slouches back in his chair, white dress shirt caked in sweat, tie loosely hanging off his shoulders. The same goes for Big Daddy; the little hair he has left is frayed and sticking up in the humidity. Bonnie Rockwaller, Kim's friend from high school, is there too for some reason, mostly taking notes. Nong Man lurks in the corner, trying to play it cool, but Yori can tell he's lowkey freaking out.

"Cute," Big Daddy sighs. "I caught that a while back."

"Yeah… she um, tried to kiss me," Yori brushes some hair behind her ear. She feels bad about reporting on Kim like this. But it's important, they have a mission here. "I think… she's… sort of there?"

"Can you clarify _sort of_?" Hank groans.

Yori side eyes him. This Hank guy is awful snippy. "She's in and out — I think she remembers everything but it's um… like watering down. She's not doing too well with complicated concepts."

"If that's the case…" Big Daddy sighs, finally slouching into a chair after several rounds of frantic pacing. "...Hank we should just adopt her and call it a day."

"What?!" Yori blurts out. "You're — we can't just call it a day! This isn't fair, Kim didn't do this to herself, she — "

"She did though," Nong Man chimes in. All eyes fall onto him and he sort of groans and steps away from his spot on the wall. "Kim's got some serious problems, I think we all know that. I know it's been the elephant in the room but… I don't know, age regression is like some kind of therapy technique. If she's turning herself into a kid by accident, I don't know, it's probably a good thing.."

Yori frowns. Kim is already acting like an eight year old… she won't be shocked if when she visits later today that she gets called Auntie Yori or something equally cheesy.

"That is an option, I think," Hank frowns. "Though… dammit, I don't know what to do. I really don't. I know that she has these — reactions — being so close to that Stoppable motherfucker, that's how she became trans to begin with."

Bonnie raises an eyebrow. Clearly, no one has given her the D-L on what's going on with Kim.

"Mystical Monkey Power," Yori says softly. Bonnie's second eyebrow goes up, so that was probably unhelpful. Yori shakes her head and looks back to the crew. "Is it selfish of me to want her to… you know, be Kim again?"

Hank sighs, fingers running up his arms. "No… yes? Fuck, I don't know. I feel like shit, we should have taken her off the team immediately and gotten her professional help. But she's just been… so good for us."

"I agree," Big Daddy says. "She's been quite the treasure."

This pause lingers in the room, and Yori kinda wishes she jumped ship earlier so she could have experienced this _treasure_ with them, but as it stands Yori doesn't know Kim that well apparently.

Then Yori's phone vibrates. It's rude to check her phone during a meeting, but no one has said anything for the past minute so she might as well check and… Oh.

_Yori i love you so much and im realy exsited we get to liv togever and b frends and can we watch a movie tonite i think thatll b fun! I love you _

Yori covers her face to hide the fact that it's finally getting to her. She's breaking down. She just threw away everything she's worked for in her entire life to switch sides and be with… an eight year old that can't even spell the word _excited._

That Rhino guy puts his hands on Yori's shoulders. He's a good guy, offered her a place to crash while she sorts things out. "Hey, s'alright. You wanna get some air, Yori?"

Hank raises an eyebrow and reaches over to snatch her phone. She doesn't try to stop him, they all need to see this. "Oh my God," he blurts out upon finishing it, and passes it over to Big Daddy who reacts with similar frustration. "Holy shit, this is… fuck it. It's done. Big Daddy, we should just take her in."

Eying the text cooly, Big Daddy nods. "I am not ready to adopt, but agreed."

Yori looks up and she has no idea what to say to save Kim, because she knows they're right: if Kim is regressing this fast, there's just no way they can save her. "No," she says anyways. "We have to try… _something_!"

"Do what?" Nong Man almost spits. "Dude, she's done. You're going to walk home and she'll have wet the bed or some shit."

"Don't joke about that!" Yori growls. "I know she's still in there… and I know that deep inside, she knows this isn't healthy. We're going to save her, if Kim is such a_ treasure_, it's worth it."

Hank looks at her pretty damn sympathetically. "Yori, I think you could argue letting her be in charge of this syndicate in the mental state she's in is even more irresponsible… and quite frankly, dangerous for the rest of us. I love Kim too, I hear your frustration but…"

Yori sighs. He's also _right_. "There has to be a way to help Kim grow up and get back into good health, without us being irresponsible. Please. Can we try?"

Hank shakes his head and shrugs it off. "Alright, fine. As her… uh, possible legal guardian, I think we can put our heads together on this and give it one month, okay?"

Fuck. One month? To reverse engineer someone as fucked up as Kim? Well.

Yori _does_ love Kim back so...

* * *

"Okay, so we have to move faster, Edgar or the snipers are gonna catch up with us. You ready?"

"Raow?"

"Yeah, you said it."

**Rhino and Yori's House: San Francisco  
Wednesday: Dinnertime**

Kim leans in and peels back one of the blankets, eying the living room carefully. Edgar, her gray cat, pokes his head out and starts looking around wildly. Uncle Mugsy and Vinny dropped off the cats earlier and they've just been havin' fun all day. Kim giggles and smooshes Edgar's face back in, pushing him back into the makeshift tent she made by tipping over one of the sofas and throwing a blanket over it. "Alright, ready… set… _go_!"

Kim runs, keeping her legs around Edgar. For whatever reason, that encourages him to run along with her. She laughs, watching him run between her feet. Maybe Edgar is playing pretend with Kim too, he's so silly.

Kim rolls under the next armchair she flipped over and peeks out the next blanket. The coffee table has been turned onto its side, making a tower she needs to scale to capture the enemy flag. Two of her cats are circling it though like sharks. Kim leans into Edgar's ears and whispers, "We gotta be careful, Edgar. If Alan and Peter see us — "

The door opens.

" — uh oh," Kim peeks her head out at the door and dives back in to hide when she sees a tired looking Rhino and Yori coming in.

"Oh, what?" Rhino groans. "What — did I get robbed or something? Shoot. I hope Kimmie's okay!"

Kim grits her teeth. She thought they were gonna come back later. She looks to Edgar who seems scared and scratches him behind the ears, his eyes slowly blinking back at her peacefully.

"I don't think you were robbed, Rhino," Yori announces loudly. "I think a naughty little girl forgot to put away her toys…"

Kim sinks deeper into the couch cushion behind her. She's gonna be in so much trouble…

Hands push past the blanket and grab Kim by the waist, yanking her out into the light and shoving her up against the wall. Before she can say anything, Yori starts ticklin' her and — haha — it's so fun, she can't stop laughing. Yori's really good at tickle attacks. Kim falls on the floor, kicking. "St-st-st-hahaha-stop it, Yori! Aaaaaah!"

"Awww," Rhino grins, walking over. "What were you playing, kiddo?"

Yori lets up on the tickling so Kim can speak. "I was playin'... um…" She actually feels kind of embarrassed now, so she says it really fast so they don't notice. "IwasplayingKimpossibleandumwhat'sfordinnertonight?"

Yori rolls her eyes and nuzzles Kim's hair, stepping away to fix the furniture. Rhino kneels down to Kim's level and rolls her into his lap. Rhino's so warm and cuddly.

"KP, you know you just made a big mess, right?"

Kim frowns. That was really immature of her. "Sorry Rhino."

"S'okay, just, um, I dunno, if ya can't stop yourself from playin' like a kid, we can just buy you some toys."

Toys?! Kim gets really excited, so she looks at the floor. But… toys?! That'd be so fun, and Kim can't help it, there's nothing in her mind telling her not to get excited. She wishes she didn't want kids, but she also doesn't see why not. She never had toys as a kid, or like, she _did_ but she was always training to become a martial arts master. She was a serious kid and didn't really have fun.

Now...

Rhino keeps talking, "I had a really nice feng shui arrangement too, and now I gotta re-remember it — ooh, Yori, I think Kimmie _does_ want some toys!"

"No!" Kim blushes really hard. She hopes that convinces them she doesn't want toys.

Yori cackles from far away. "Well, maybe this weekend we can get you some toys if you behave.. did you take your nap today, Kim?"

Kim's blush gets unbearable now. "No," she sighs. "I, um, woke up and texted you and stuff… can we watch a movie tonight, Yori?"

"Ooh," Rhino purses his lips. "Yori, wasn't I just tellin' ya about _Singin' in the Rain_?"

"I think little Kimmie needs to get some sleep first," Yori laughs, strutting over to Kim and booping her in the nose. Yori's so pretty, Kim doesn't mind if she bullies her a little bit.

"Aww," Kim frowns, all Kim thought about today was watching a movie with Yori. She was so dead set on it and now it sounds like it's not going to happen at all. "Am I in trouble?"

Yori winces. "Metaphorically? Yes."

Kim blinks. That word is too big for her. "I don't get it."

Yori winces even harder. "Oof, um, I was saying — you're okay Kimmie. No one's mad at you."

"Oh," Kim sighs. That doesn't sound right either, she feels pretty bad right now. "Okay…"

Yori looks away, kind of hesitant. Kim can tell. "Yori, what's wrong?"

"It's just — " Yori sighs. " — Kim, did you have a rough childhood?"

"I'm a kid right now, silly," Kim says, then blushes, immediately catching what Yori just asked. "I didn't play too much, I was always trainin'."

Yori nuzzles her hair and just sort of smiles, but Kim knows that she's just making Yori feel worse.

* * *

When Kim finally gets to see her daddies, it's sort of disappointing. While the first hugs and kisses are really fun, Big Daddy and Hank start talking about work which is so — ugh. Kim faintly knows that their work is her work too but they just make it sound so… UGH. Again.

So instead Kim hangs out with Nong Man, watching cartoons.

**Daddy's House: San Francisco  
Two Thursdays from Day 1: Dinnertime**

Kim sits cross-legged on the floor, barefoot and prettied up in this really cute pale blue dress. Yori even got her some ribbon so she can feel a little bit better about her short hair. She absently chews away at a tray of snacks she stole from the dinner table. Big Daddy and Hank are still eating somehow and ugh why are they so sloooow.

Nong Man however is blissfully unconcerned, watching cartoons along with her without a care in the world. Kim almost wants to climb up on the couch with him but 1.) That's way too childish, 2.) Nong Man is not cuddly, and 3.) He's lounging across the whole couch anyways.

"Yo, Kimmie, are you even watching this? That joke was funny and you're just staring off into space."

Kim looks back and sticks her tongue out at him. "Um, if you want to change the channel…"

"I don't want to change the channel, I like this show," Nong Man says.

Kim frowns. "Well then why are you goin' around bullying me?"

"Well, I — I'm not _bullying_ you, I just…"

"You don't like my show!" Kim yells, smirking all the while. She likes messin' with Nong Man.

"I said it was funny!" Nong Man whines.

Kim puffs out her cheeks. "Yeah, whatever, you want to change the channel, just do it."

"I don't — God damn, I feel like I have to now. You made it weird."

_Click_.

On goes the news and ugh, snooze city. She looks back to Nong Man and he just smirks, before pretending to be super intrigued. Kim shakes her head and since she's sort of out of thoughts anyways, tries to be an adult and pay attention.

...they're talking about… um, climate change. Something to do with this report from the North Pole or somethin'. Kim doesn't really get it, but then again — she never got this stuff anyways, she just feels kind of sad. Really sad actually, she wants to cry just thinking about it. She was doing all this cool stuff to protect the planet and now she can't. She's spent the past week playin' with toys and not much else.

It makes her want to go do something important. Maybe… maybe if she goes back to the dinner table she can ask her parents if she can help out at the Bermuda Triangle again. It's worth a shot, so she gets up and walks past Nong Man.

Kim doesn't really know how to become an adult again, but she thinks doing adult stuff will help. But as she draws closer to Big Daddy's fancy dining room, she hears whispers and that makes Kim want to be sneaky. Sort of an instinct to her, no matter how young she is.

Kim listens in very intently.

"_Obviously, we don't get a say in this,"_ Hank says. "_Whatever she chooses… or doesn't choose, we'll go with it. But honestly? I think this is an opportunity for her to… grow up with less pressure."_

"_I concur,_" Big Daddy replies. "_She's had a rough life… and from Yori told us, not even much of a childhood. I'd love to give her a second chance. Though adoption? I know it's been mentioned loosely but I'm not ready for that, and I love you, Hank, but…"_

"_Right, yes, we haven't even been together for a year and Kim looks up to us like father figures… who happen to be fucking each other."_

"_Hank."_

"_It's called comedic relief, Big Daddy. If I can't laugh, I'll cry."_

Kim presses her back up against the wall; this stinks. She really wishes she didn't hear that — they're right, who's to say what will really happen but they… want her to stay as a kid?

…

Kim doesn't want to let anyone down, even though she doesn't want to be a kid anymore. She knows that she's just trying to get away from her adult problems, and she doesn't want to keep ignorin' them… but the others want her to be a kid. Kim holds back the tears, marches into the dining room and chirps, "Hi Daddy. Hi Big Daddy."

They fall for it hook, line, and sinker and it kinda makes Kim sad that they can't tell when she's obviously playing it up versus just being herself. But if they want her to be a child… maybe it's better off that way. She'll try.

For them.

* * *

"_Our topic is… blood in the water."_

The closest door swings open and Kim steps out in a suit that's ten times too big for her. It's hard for her not to giggle. "This is the song we'll get Hank to do," Kim says while Rhino plays the instrumental karaoke track they found on YouTube for the song "Blood in the Water" from _Legally Blonde._

The best part about hanging out with Rhino is he's kind of like a little kid too, so Kim doesn't feel so bad being childish.

Tonight, they're putting on a performance of _Legally Blonde_ in Yori's bedroom. Yori slouches in the corner, all kinds of annoyed because she actually has to read a ton of lines with them. They all do since there's only three of them… _for now,_ heh heh heh.

**Rhino and Yori's House: San Francisco  
Tuesday!: Almost Bedtime :( **

Rhino guffaws loudly. "Aw, you're so right!"

"_Kids, it's time you faced,"_ Kim sings._ "Law school is a waste. Oh yes _— _unless _— _you acquire a taste for…_"

Kim looks to Yori who is so darn unamused, it's kinda silly how upset she gets when she doesn't understand the joke. The karaoke track continues but Kim doesn't sing anymore, and wanders up to Yori, suddenly jumping into her lap. She hears Yori snort before letting her a hand fall on Kim's tiny chest. "Hee hee," Kim giggles. "Do ya guys think we actually can get Daddy to sing this?"

"Which one? Big or — oh yeah, Hank," Rhino grins. "Yeah, I think so. I know that guy loves showtunes, he's just all lowkey about it."

"Huh?" Yori asks. "Kim, why would Hank…?"

Kim cracks her head up into Yori's chest and grins from ear to ear. "We're gonna do a whole production of _Legally Blonde_, remember?"

"What?" Yori blurts out. "Rhino, what is she — "

Rhino scratches his head awkwardly. "Uh, sorry Yori, I kinda promised Kimmie that we'd… hey, Kimmie. I don't think we can do it, I'm sorry, I got so excited when we sang _Serious_ together."

"Huh?" Kim frowns. "That's not fair! You guys have all this neat stuff to do every day and I can't do nothin'. I thought we were…"

"Well, we're busy Kim," Yori rubs Kim's back because she knows that makes Kim get all relaxed and happy.

"What if we all do just one song together?" Kim pouts. "_What You Want_ is eight minutes long."

"Dat's a lotta work for one song, Kim," Rhino sighs. "Big Daddy and Hank are awful busy."

Kim shakes her head. "No!" She's been really good at the word lately, and she knows it's bratty for her to whine like that, but she always gets her way when she says _No!_

Rhino blinks and looks to Yori. "Alright, Imma send out the texts then. Who'd we say Nong Man is playing again?"

"He's the rapper," Kim says simply and nuzzles deeper into Yori. "Y'know, the _what ya want ya want to be out because the sun she warm, what you want you wanna study inside your dorm, _oh." She blushes; she thought she'd sound a lot cooler when she sang that but instead she sounds like the cruddy Kidz Bop version. Oof.

Kim tries to distract herself from that sadness and moves on, "Oh and Yori. Remember? You're my Delta Nu friend. You get to go, _What you want, sweetheart, it's no easy thing, if you're going to swing it, it'll wreck your Senior Spring_!"

Kim blinks after in a daze, she actually doesn't really understand what some of the words mean anymore. But she spent all day listening over and over to the musical CD Rhino left for her! It's so catchy and fun… and besides, this means Kim gets to play _Elle Woods_. Kim wants to be _her_ when she's older.

"What?!" Yori yelps. "Consent, I need to consent to this!"

Kim doesn't really know what that means, so she hopes Rhino has an answer.

"C'mon Yori, it'll be fun." Rhino grins.

"Yeah!" Kim gets all excited. "We'll all get to hang out again, and it'll be really fun. Aw man, I can't wait already, Rhino c-can I use your phone?" She has to borrow it because Yori took her phone away the other day for some reason, which was really mean of her! But Kim is gonna be the bigger person and forgive her. "I wanna Skype everyone right now. We can have a conference and stuff."

"Kim," Yori tries to latch Kim back as she runs off her lap.

"Outvoted, Yori," Rhino grins and pulls Kim into his lap, cheesin' at Yori like he won a prize or something.

Kim grins so wide, she's just so happy, she gets to call everyone and tell 'em the good news and stuff and… oh man. This is gonna be so cool!

* * *

Bonnie's no fun. Kim remembers Bonnie being all energetic and mean, so Kim was kind of scared when she got told Bonnie was her babysitter for the day. Especially because they used to be rivals and they… um… did some adult stuff together. Kim can't remember it too good, but she bets Bonnie does and maybe that's why Bonnie is so sad.

She's just so awkward and quiet, it's not like Bonnie at all, Kim would rather Bonnie be a bully again than this. This is just sad

**The Park!: San Francisco  
Saturday: Afternoon**

Kim also has to hold Bonnie's hand when they walk through the park, which is kinda unfair. But Bonnie's hand is all warm and stuff. Kim looks up. She's kinda nervous, because she doesn't want to get in trouble. But she knows Bonnie's sad, and only… only an adult would _really_ understand why.

Kim knows why Bonnie's sad.

But she has to pretend to not know. Fortunately, it's not uncommon for little kids like her to be super emotionally aware. "Bonnie, why are you so sad?"

"Huh?" Bonnie wasn't paying attention.

Kim frowns, cheeks getting all puffy. "Bonnie!" she whines. She just needs Bonnie to say it: She's lonely and has only one friend, and it's Kim, but Kim can't be much of a good friend right now because she's limited by so much in her communication. It makes Kim's head hurt to think that, and it's bugging her. She just wants to get it over with.

"Sorry, Kim, I just, this is sort of uncomfortable for me."

Kim frowns and looks at her feet. Bonnie doesn't like her and doesn't want to talk to her anymore. That stinks. "Sorry."

Kim doesn't want to feel sad today, she looks really cute. Yori bought her a new skirt, blouse, and even a pair of Mary Janes! She just wishes her hair was longer, it's still really short like a buzzcut. When she looks in the mirror, she's not even seeing the kid that she was before. Probably because she's all trans and little…

"Bonnie," Kim says carefully, her chipmunk squeak of a voice making it hard for even Kim to take herself seriously. "We can still be friends. I'm tryin' real hard to be big again."

Bonnie frowns. Kim must've said something wrong. Maybe it was when she said _big_, that was kinda kiddy actually… it's hard, it's like everything is going through a filter when she talks. "I know you all like to buy me toys and dolls and stuff so I can be happy, b-but I don't even like that stuff, honest!"

Bonnie raises an eyebrow and kneels down, touching Kim's skinny arms. "Are you still in there, Kim?"

Kim blinks.

"Um."

Kim said too much, she thinks. She just wanted Bonnie to be happy but she kinda blurted out her own secret that even though she's giggling a ton whenever Yori tickles her, she cries herself to sleep every night because inside she's screaming. She looks away from Yori and sees a playground, then looks back to Yori.

An impulse nearly impossible to resist begs Kim to go to the playground, but she'd rather stay and talk to Bonnie. But talking to Bonnie is scary, it might get her in trouble with everyone else. They're going to worry even more about her and make her see a doctor right now if they find out that she's actually —

"Yipee!" Kim yells. Fortunately, her dumb voice sells it. Bonnie looks so disappointed in her, but Kim pretends not to notice and runs away, holding her arms out like an airplane so Bonnie will think Kim is even dumber.

"Kim!" Bonnie shouts. "You're supposed to stay at my side and — "

"Catch up with me if you can, Bonnie!" Kim giggles.

…

Kim likes the swingsets most, because she gets to swing really high! And it makes her feel like an adventurer, and that's what Kim is 'sposed to be. She'll get to do even cooler stuff when she figures out how to get big again. But for now this is good enough. Way better than making forts in Rhino's house… which she's starting to realize is a crummy apartment… but! She still gets her own room.

...anyways.

Best part about the swings?

It's the adrenaline. Kim has always loved adventure, it's kept her going this whole time, ever since 8th grade. The swing gives her the kind of rush she can only find when flying high into the air. It's so fun!

When Kim swings as high as she's ever gotten, she moves fast, shoving her heels onto the seat of the swing and running her hands up the chains. She jumps really high in the air and hits the ground at a roll. She dives through the woodships, her knees all bruised and stuff now. She gets some dirt on her nice clothes too, Yori might get mad at her about that, but she still feels really pretty… and tough.

Being tough is important.

Wow — that was so fun! Kim wants to do it again, right away. But when she turns around, she sees a big kid hopping onto the swings. Definitely taller than her, but still freckled and stuff.

Kim knows that she's technically a lot older, but… but… agh, she wants to swing! That was the last one and she's not allowed to go out much. "Hey! I was using that!" she snaps.

"Yeah? Well you jumped off," the big kid sticks her tongue out.

"Aw," Kim frowns, scratching the back of her neck. That still doesn't feel very fair to her at all. "But…"

"You look dumb in that skirt by the way," the big kid says. "Boys aren't 'sposed to wear skirts."

"Huh?" Kim blinks, trying to figure that out then remembers she's trans. She's so used to it by now she forgets most of the time, so she giggles. "I'm a girl, silly! My name's Kim, what's yours?"

The girl snorts. "Ew, no. You're a gross little boy, and if you don't go away I'm going to call my mom over."

Kim's face gets really hot. She remembers being worried about this when she became trans in the first place, but it hasn't actually happened too much yet. "I'm a girl," she repeats, getting kind of mad. She's got a tough enough life, you know?

"No, you're not, _loser_."

Kim's eyes get so wide and she starts to hear voices. Everything in real life goes into slow motion like a movie while memories run through her head so fast. It's hard to make sense of any of it, all this screaming and yelling.

But then she sees Ron bleeding on the ground with a fucking sword coming out of his chest. He looks at Kim and despite all the pain he must be going through internally, he smirks at her. "_Loser."_

Kim snaps.

Her little fist lashes out and nails the girl in the face. For a second, the voices stop and the girl falls off the swing and lands hard on the rubber mat. She bursts into tears and in comes another flood of memories.

Kim's arms are poised around her waist, resisting an onslaught coming from the machine gun in her hands. She spits violently as bodies jerk uncontrollably, blood spilling in all directions. Her voice is deep, it comes from the bottom of her throat...

Her fists strike an innocent security guard to the ground. His flashlight falls into the air, spinning. She can't see all of it, but her hands light up in white when she grabs him and she momentarily gets to see the cut she makes with her knuckle above his eye.

At Global Justice Headquarters, a bomb goes off and blasts Ron into kingdom come. Later she shoots him in the chest.

Kim's shaking when she looks down at the big kid. If there were blood dripping from her mouth, she would lick it up. There's this tightening in her chest, and then in her throat. She knows she's not the bad guy but she falls to her bare knees, feeling so small before the girl. She cries harder than them and screams.

"I can't take it anymore!" she shrieks, voice so high it hurts her own ears. Everyone starts looking and she looks back at the big kid, thankful she didn't hurt her anymore than she did. She reaches out to them and the kid backs away, eyes so wide it's like they are peeled back.

Kim sees her little fingers curl back to her palm in hesitance. These hands are made for destruction, they have done so much damage and even when she's pretending to be a little kid, she can't help herself.

Heads turn on the situation fast. Oh no… no no no no.

Kim waves her hands frantically. "Shoot, um, I'm sorry! I'm really sorry, I — " Her voice kicks into such a squeaky, high register. Her mind is dissolving into mush, she feels it, all those flashes of memory, of power, fading away into the back of her mind and all she can think about is what a big bully she is. She's so mean to other people and it's not fair.

"I'm telling!" the big kid says. She mustn't be _that_ much older than Kim. That makes it so much worse, ugh.

"Wait, no no, don't tell!" Kim says, her eyes filling up with tears too. "Please, I'll do anything, I'll — "

"Leave me alone!" the girl runs away.

…

A half hour later it's finally over. Bonnie has to pull Kim onto a bench and call Yori, and Yori goes off on Kim yelling at her and stuff for being so mean to someone. Kim ends up crying a ton, and her eyes get all red. When it's finally over, Bonnie looks down at Kim, still holding her hand. Kim feels like garbage, no one is ever going to want to play with her again.

"You going to be okay, Kim?" Bonnie asks gently.

Kim shakes her head. "No, Yori says I'm grounded and I'm not allowed to go out tomorrow. We gotta go back home."

Bonnie frowns and nuzzles Kim's head. Kim doesn't like having short hair, but she likes how it feels to get touched up there. So soft and tickly. It's in this moment that she feels like an honest to god eight year old kid. She's trying to so hard to hang on and she just can't keep up anymore.

Then Bonnie reaches out her hand.

"Kim…" Bonnie says carefully, and looks at the sky nervously. "I'm not going to tell on you, but can you be honest with me: You're still 19, right?"

"What do you mean?" Kim asks, sniffling between words. It's scary, she doesn't think she's 19 anymore. She thinks it's over, but she doesn't want Bonnie to worry because Bonnie is the one person who wants her to be big again. "Of course I'm still here," Kim fibbs.

"Yeah, but…" Bonnie clamps her jaw tight and looks up at the sky. "...like, you hate this, don't you? I know everyone keeps telling me you're having the time of your life and it's a matter of time before you end up stuck like this…"

Kim feigns a gasp. She already knew that since she was being all naughty and eavesdropping on her daddies. "Oh," she mutters.

"But I don't see that at all," Bonnie says sternly. "I think you're really trying to hang in there. I think… _you_ are still here, talking to me."

Bonnie can see it from a mile away that Kim really is still inside. Kim doesn't believe it for a second, but she tries to remember that Bonnie is her friend and wouldn't lie to her.

If Bonnie thinks Kim is still there, she must be.

Kim can't resist smiling at how happy this makes her. "Yeah."

Bonnie sighs and kicks at the grass."But you can't help acting like a child?"

This is starting to make Kim feel sad again. She feels transparent, like Bonnie can see right through her. "Yeah."

"And you're sad because everyone treats you like a kid even though you're really trying not to?"

Kim starts crying again. "Yeah..."

"Hey," Bonnie coos, lifting Kim onto her lap and holding her tight. "Don't worry. We're not — "

Then Kim gets brave.

"Please don't hold me."

Bonnie blinks and sets Kim back down, giving her space. Kim looks back up, eyes serious. Bonnie looks pretty serious too, which helps. It helps Kim say what she needs to. "It's like someone is controlling me."

"Ron?"

"No," Kim groans. "Not him. This is me — I've been tryna run away from this for a long time, but I need to get serious and grow up again."

Bonnie nods. "Okay…" She nibbles on her lip. "Alright."

"Don't tell anyone," she commands. It doesn't sound very tough with her chipmunk voice though.

"I know," Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Hey, I'm hungry, are you hungry?"

Kim shakes her head. "No, you need to take me home. Yori's gonna get really mad at you if — "

"Yori can go fuck herself, she's being too protective of — why are you looking at me like that?"

Kim realizes her jaw dropped. "You said a bad word."

"I think nineteen year old Kim can handle the word _fuck_."

"Ooooooooh," Kim is starting to get it now.

"Yori loves you a lot, Kim, and I think she's just doing what makes sense right. She's panicking, and — "

"I know," Kim says cooly. "I can tell." She squeezes Bonnie's hand tight. "Thanks Bonnie. You're a really good friend."

Bonnie grins. "You are too, Kim."

* * *

After a few weeks of this, it turns out Kim is a big bed wetter. Yup. Icing on the cake.

After the fifth time in a row, it gets really frustrating. Yori almost wants to call Kim's real parents and ask her how they dealt with it, because as much as Yori is trying to be understanding, oh my god is it frustrating.

**Rhino's Apartment: San Francisco, California  
May 24th : 7:29AM**

It always starts the same way. Yori walks past Kim's room and hears sniffling from behind the door. Wincing and taking in a deep breath to compose herself, Yori creaks open the door and sees Kim's entire cheeks shining with tears. Her eyes are red, probably sore from crying. She always looks so focused too, like she was figuring out how to hide the evidence.

Yori pulls up a chair and sits besides her. "Kimmie… I… I don't know what to do."

Kim turns away and nervously runs a hand through her hair.

"Kim. Please look at me," Yori groans. This is getting to be so hard, so tedious. She's starting to think it isn't worth it, doing all this work for an eight year old girl, and she hates herself so much for thinking that, but…

"I… um…" Kim frowns. "...I'm sorry Yori."

Oh, now Yori feels really bad. "Hey, hey, no, don't be sorry, it's okay. It… happens sometimes, I guess. Um."

"Yeah," Kim echoes.

Yori tries to think like Kim might, it's easy to look at all the giggles and smiles at face value, but this has probably been really hard on her. Yori can't imagine how Kim must feel to be regressing like this.

"Well, you know the drill, it's bath time," Yori smirks and nuzzles Kim's hair. "And… I bought you some stuff to have a nice bubble bath today."

Kim's eyes go really wide, before she catches herself and slouches back. But Yori notes the knitted brow and fidgets. Kid can't wait to play with all the bubbles, she bets. She's just too embarrassed to admit it out loud. "I'm going to take care of your laundry, if you can leave your clothes outside the door…"

"Yep!" Kim practically leaps off the bed, and grabs a towel. "Um, is it okay for me to make the bath, Yori?"

Yori raises an eyebrow, and then remembers she has actually been doing that for Kim. But maybe Yori shouldn't. She should let go a little bit, let Kim take on some form of independence, even if it's for something so silly.

"Yeah, I trust you."

…

The second Yori walks into the bathroom, she is greeted with honestly the most precious sight. Kim is shoulder deep in bubbles, and her hair is smeared in soap suds. Her head is tilted back and when a wad of bubbles falls down from what must be the ceiling, Kim thrusts her face into it and giggles. But she spots Yori, and she blushes fast, sinking nose-deep into the water.

"It's okay, Kimmie," Yori smiles, eying the ceiling carefully. Looks like instead of cleaning herself Kim was just chucking bubbles at the ceiling. Well… that's okay too. Yori kneels besides the tub. "I am worried about you though."

Kim looks up at Yori and back at the bubbles. "Wow, you wait until I'm all naked and embarrassed to tell me that. That's a flex."

At least she's still self-aware. That sounds enough like her Kim.

Yori grins again. "Well… I mean… Kim you've wet the bed so much, and I know you're trying… but…"

"I _am_ trying, Yori," Kim mutters.

"I'm confused though," Yori really hopes she doesn't come off as accusatory; she just doesn't know how else to have this conversation. "I'm under the impression your own mind did this to you. Like… isn't there a big part of you that… that _wants_ this?"

"Sort of," Kim frowns. "I dunno, I dunno how to," Kim shrugs. "Um… i-i-it's not about the... um… you know..." She gets really fidgety, like she's regretting what she's trying to tell Yori. It's hard, because Yori really needs Kim to speak up now, because they're running out of time to fix this.

"I have nightmares," Kim whispers.

Yori raises an eyebrow. "That's… um… pretty normal…"

"No!" Kim screams all of a sudden, and she draws back fast, sheepish. Her voice got so loud and she sounded so much like a genuine child throwing a tantrum. "You don't understand, it's… um… he — he's in my mind again, and I can't stop him."

Yori blinks. "What?"

"He…" Kim itches her head. "...he is making me have dreams where I'm… at these f-funerals for all the kids at Yamanouchi I k-k-killed… a-and… um…"

Yori doesn't want Kim to finish her thought, but knows it might be healthy to let the adult in her speak.

Kim is so present right now. It sounds like her real self trying to talk through this childish filter. "...the kids come out all bloody and…" She winces and represses what would have been a loud squeal. "...and everybody beats me up because they know I'm no good, and they um… cut me up and — "

Oh no.

Yori swings her legs over the tub and drops in, adding enough volume that a ton of water spills over the edge. She'll clean it later, her priority is on Kim. She grabs her from behind and holds her so tight. She's so warm, and Yori doesn't want to let go. She feels horrible for doubting her. "You're certain it's Ron?"

Kim nods. "Mhm. When I was big… it was easier to keep him away but now he's being all mean to me this week, and — "

"It's okay," Yori coos. "You're okay. I'm going to make sure he never hurts you again."

"Huh? B-but… how?" Kim asks.

Yori sighs. "I'll find him, and tell him to stop. I think I can get through to him."

Kim frowns. "I don't want you to get hurt… um…" She suddenly wriggles and pulls away from Yori, staring back at her so intently.

"I won't let you." There's this darkness in Kim's eyes. "He'll hurt you too… I…. please, Yori. Don't go."

This seems like it's been on Kim's mind, like, she's nervous about it enough that it has to have been.

"Kim… I'm confused."

Kim blushes and looks away for a moment, then comes back. "The truth is Yori… _I hate being a kid_ — "

Yori's heart stops.

" — but I don't want anyone to get hurt tryna save me, so I haven't been tellin' anyone. But I'm tellin' you now, I love you and don't want you to go away."

Well, that kinda changes everything. That kinda means Yori _does_ have to go.

"I'm sorry, Kim. But it's for your own good."

Yori stands up but suddenly Kim rams into her knees, tumbling her back into the tub. Her face flops into the bubbles and resurfaces, spitting out the soap. After so many weeks of disciplining Kim she's about ready to bite Kim's head off. She looks at the kid and sees this intense gaze burrowing into her.

"I don't understand!" Kim hisses, tiny arms doing a lot of work holding Yori down. "You've all been treating me like a kid. The only one who doesn't is Bonnie, it's not fair."

Yori sighs, this is such a hard conversation to be having. "I don't know, Kim, I mean, it's been three and a half weeks and you haven't been acting very mature."

"I am too mature!"

"Then why did you punch a kid at the park?"

Kim bites down hard on her lip and looks away. Yori can't believe she's having an argument with a child, though maybe it's telling that Kim is at least semi-coherent. She looks back. "I can't control it, my mind is all messed up and stuff. I can't remember words, I can't remember experiences, everyone's bigger than me and I'm just really emotional."

"That's what being a kid is," Yori says tenderly.

Kim shakes her head. "Maybe — but that doesn't mean it's fair. I wanna be big again, but you all want me to stay little so that way I can be happier, so I've been trying that! I've been trying to stay little for all of you and I can't take it anymore!"

Yori blinks. Though this little 'boy' is so foreign to her, she can see the Kim in her eyes. She can hear her voice. "I don't want you to be a kid," Yori says.

"Huh?" Kim leans back. "Yes you do! You keep buying me toys an' stuff, and ticklin' me and — and — " she starts crying. " — calling me Kimmie and…"

Yori hugs Kim again, pulling her head onto her shoulder. "Hey, hey, calm down. I was… only doing that because I thought you wanted it."

"I don't."

"It's hard for us to tell."

A steely glint passes through Kim's eyes and Yori feels kind of bad now. "I can't control it, I just… I played along for a while to make everybody happy but I can't take it anymore. I need to grow up, I know it's selfish and childish for me to — "

Oh Kim. Yori's face falls and for the first time since this started, she actually starts to cry herself.

" — Yori?" Kim frowns, unhooking her chin from Yori's shoulder. "Yori, no, I didn't wanna make you cry, please don't cry, I don't want to hurt you, I love you so much and..."

Yori shakes her head and gently swats Kim away. This is so… messy.

"It's not selfish, Kim," Yori chokes. "Fuck. I thought I was helping you…"

"You've been really nice to me."

"Is this my fault?" Yori whispers. She hates feeling emotional like this — this never happened before she left Yamanouchi. But something about Kim really brings out how soft Yori is on the inside.

"No, I think I goofed up," Kim admits. "I think… we all wanted each other to be happy but instead we made each other sad."

"Yeah," Yori echoes. "What do you want to do about Ron though? He's hurting you."

Kim sighs and falls back into the bathtub, her body caked in bubbles all over. Yori almost forgot that Kim has been naked this whole time. She's just been so focused on her eyes. When she looks beyond them, she sees such an earnest child, one that doesn't even look that much like Kim. But the eyes tell the story well enough.

"I have to help Ron," Kim says with this resolve that bears no fear. Yori doesn't know if that's the little girl crying out, or if it's just Kim. Either way, helping Ron is foolish. But what is Yori going to do? "He's hurting himself by doing this to me… maybe I'll get scared sometimes, b-but… I'm gonna grow up again soon."

Yori raises her eyebrows. "How?"

Kim shrugs. "I dunno! But I can feel it in my chest… um, do you want to rehearse your lines for next week?"

Aaaaand back to reality.

"No," Yori says bluntly.

Kim flashes her baby teeth. "Too bad."

* * *

Kim wakes up and knows that she's dry. So that's good for starters.

**Rhino's Apartment: San Francisco  
Monday… the 26th?: Morning**

Kim had nightmares last night but they didn't scare her at all. There's this faint image burning into Kim's retinas of Ron's eyes glaring at her, and Kim doesn't blink. Ron's eyes sort of fade away, they leave her mind and she's okay.

There's this spark of blue in Kim's chest, the same spark she always gets when these things happen. She feels it breathe with her, move to the rhythm of her heart. Usually, it burns but today it's like sitting on a heated cushion.

She grins and flops her head against the pillow, thinking about today: today's gonna be the day she grows up again. No matter what happens.

A knock at her door. Kim cranes her neck up. "Good morning, Rhino!"

"Whenever you're ready, I got breakfast ready for a _Miss Elle Woods_!"

Kim allows herself a childish grin that stretches from ear to ear, she even squeals because this is the day she's been rehearsing for. She scrambles into the bathroom before anyone else can get in there and takes a shower — that's right, a _shower_. Next she digs out one of Yori's makeup kits and after her face dries off, she ever so gently brings the eye-pencil to her lid, slowly tracing the curve to paint on 'cat ears.'

She looks really pretty.

Next comes the lipstick, pink of course. That's what Elle Woods wears. It's so glossy and shiny, and even though objectively Kim knows she looks more like a clown that anything, she knows she'll grow into it.

But what was silly gets a bit more serious, and she more carefully applies the blush and eyeshadow. The first time she ever wore makeup she was twelve and her mom was teaching her on a lazy afternoon. She kinda took it for granted after that, and once she started doing field work with Ron, she didn't even wear makeup. All the sweat on her face messed it up and it just wasn't worth dealing with.

Even after the transition, Kim didn't wear makeup much, mostly because she was sad and tired. Now she's looking at herself and for the first time in so long, she feels really pretty. Maybe others will laugh at her, but the makeup makes her feel secure. Gently, she zips up the makeup kit and slides it back into the medicine cabinet, blinking at herself a few more times.

She smiles. It makes this nice, soft pink curve that makes her feel happy. She might need to take it off later but for right now, she wants to be happy so she slips into her dress for the day and hops off the foot stool.

As she reaches for the door handle, the door swings away from her reach and in comes Yori dressed in a towel. Kim immediately bumps into Yori and steps back, blushing profusely. "Sorry! Um, I didn't see you comin' and…"

Yori's eyes are really wide. Like deer in headlights wide.

Kim furrows her brow. "Um, Yori… you okay?"

Yori grins and steps behind Kim in a fast pivot and grips her by the hips. She hoists her into the air and places her back on the foot stool and when Kim looks into the mirror she sees a sixteen year old trans kid staring back at her. The facial hair is back in, and all scruffy. She can feel hair all over her body, as if she hadn't shaved for about a month which technically is what happened.

But she actually doesn't mind it so much, especially with the pretty makeup. She almost… likes the combination of both. It's so… Kim.

"Wh-what?" Kim stutters, noticing now that in the past few seconds her voice dropped an octave. She swallows, and tries to go back into that female register, then says fuck it because wow wow wow. "I'm…"

"Mhm," Yori chimes in. "Your makeup is really pretty, too."

"Th-thanks," Kim says. She brings a hand to her hair and touches it, another hand to her chest and wow — it's real. This is exactly who she was before the kidnapping. She takes in a deep breath and turns around, looking Yori in the eye.

"Can I kiss you?" Kim asks, cheeks glowing pink. "I've wanted to ever since I messed up…"

Yori smiles, but shakes her head slowly, as in, _Wait a second. _Gently, she brings both arms around Kim's back and pulls her in. "Kim… God, you are so much stronger than you realize."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "Like… how I took on Ron hand-to-hand?"

"No, like," Yori chuckles and drags Kim down, seating her on the rim of the bathtub. Yori joins Kim at her side and holds her hand. "You pulled yourself out of this, and… um… well, this still isn't your body, is it?"

Kim frowns. "No."

"Do you want to stay in this body?"

"Huh?"

"I know being trans is important to you, you don't have to lose that but…"

Kim is sort of surprised that Yori can tell. "But it'd better to be trans in my old body. Before BP."

"Yeah," Yori echoes. "What… what do you think you need to do to accomplish that?"

Kim looks to the bathroom door and she sees Rhino crying. Face beet red, he holds up a hand and closes the door for them, to give the two girls space. It's weird how quickly Kim got close to Yori. But goddamn, she really likes her.

"...I think age regression is um, some kind of therapy," Kim mutters. "...just because I'm not a child anymore doesn't mean I'm done with it."

Yori nods and squeezes Kim's hand. "So what will you do?"

Kim sighs. She thinks if she were still eight she would be crying by now, but she can control it a lot better now that her head is more leveled out. "I had a rougher childhood than I thought… I think, if I stand any chance at this… I need to see my parents." She frowns. "My real ones."

"I think that's a great idea," Yori smiles, even though her eyes are all sad.

Kim nods, and starts to feel really tense, especially in her groin. Sitting across Yori like this, the curves of her body barely contained by this towel wrapped around her. It makes Kim hungry. Blushing, she reaches over to the knob on the shower and turns it. Water sputters out, and little droplets fall onto the girls, but it's not too bad. "Shower takes a while to heat up," Kim tries to say smoothly, gently pushing the straps to her dress off her shoulders.

Yori just sort of waits.

Kim's made love before, with Bonnie, but that was in darkness. This is a bright room where you can see everything… so it's kind of scary for her. But she wants Yori to see, the dress falls onto the bathmat and Kim is just there, also erect, which is really embarrassing. But she reaches out to Yori's towel, and clutches it where it's tied. They watch each other carefully, and when it seems okay, Kim undoes it.

Kim doesn't look too much at Yori even though she looks amazing, she just wants the touch. She gets close to Yori and their legs press against each other first. Her cock brushes against Yori's groin and it kinda tickles with all the hair. Kim looks up to Yori, the dense humidity coming from the hot water and steam sending sweat all over her body. Gently, she touches Yori's breast and brings her lips so close to Yori's.

"I promise I'll go to my parents and come back in my old body, but still trans," Kim whispers. "But I really need you right now."

"It's okay," Yori says, moments before lips touch. "I need you too."

* * *

**A/N:** _Song for this chapter is "What You Want" from Legally Blonde. bit . ly / Im-Scared-Too_

_This chapter was really personal to me. As a trans person, I used to be obsessed with going back and trying again as a kid. I think I'm past it now, but I feel like Kim is someone who didn't really get a childhood because she was so focused on becoming "Kim Possible." Definitely a different take from the show, but I feel it for her and this chapter feels really true to me. I did get really emotional writing some scenes and I hope the sexual stuff at the end wasn't too much. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	17. Stay With Me

_CW: references to previous self-harm, blood, suicide ideation, gender dysphoria_

* * *

Kim is so fucking nervous; she hasn't had a meaningful interaction with her parents since last summer…

..._or_ Thanksgiving if you want to count the time Kim beat the shit out of Global Justice agents in front of her Dad…

...or Christmas if you want to count the time a possessed Yori tried to kill Kim in her bedroom while Shego tried to kill Ron. _So_ the drama...

**Kim's Parents House: Middleton, Colorado  
May 28, 2008: 9:04PM**

Kim waits at the doorstep — she's paralyzed in fear, just standing there like a total idiot. She didn't tell anyone she was coming, nor did she let anyone come with her to at least hold her hand.

"I have to do this alone," she told the others before getting on the Megabus to Denver.

Before, not seeing her parents was about avoiding falling into Ron's aura; she's playing it kinda close to the chest by ignoring that hard rule that she can't be near him, but she tries not to think about it which makes it easier to avoid his contact. So she mostly thinks about how she's trans and her parents are going to hate her for being a little pervert.

Her eyes scrunch up in tears, she can't bring herself to ring the doorbell. She can't let her parents see her like this. She doesn't want them to know what she let happen to herself, she doesn't want them to know how she wants to stay trans because it makes her happy, she doesn't want them to know anything.

But what if they _aren't_ transphobic?

What if they get upset because they realize Kim thought they would be awful about all this?

Kim compulsively rings the doorbell, she can't take it anymore. She needs to do this.

The door opens and slowly Kim's teary eyes peel open. Both her parents are there, and Kim can't even wait the second it takes to look at them or even say anything. She charges her mom, throwing her arms around her shoulders, and burying her head into her shoulder.

They say things to her, they stroke her hair, and Kim can't remember any of it even though it's happening right now. She's distracted, her skin crawls all over like it's shifting at some unknown command. Something's changing — again, she just knows she is changing and it's not anything Ron is doing to her. As always, it's her own mind changing her —

— at least, she thinks it's her.

Kim's hair is too long, her head seated too high, and she has breasts.

Kim catches a glimpse of herself in the living room mirror — she's eighteen again, before all of this happened. Perfect girl next door. She's… cis.

Kim's lips move automatically, like she can't even control her own words or anything. She just notices how with every answer her parents seem disappointed in something. She can't make them smile. There's just so much… neutrality.

They stand so far apart and talk about the weather. The weather!

Kim can't do this. "I need to take a bath," she says suddenly, breathlessly, alarmed by her high voice. "Is that okay?"

Of course they say yes.

* * *

"Honey, can I come in?"

"...Um… yeah, yeah, I think that's okay."

Kim knows that it should be okay for her Mom to see her in the bathtub — it's just that… this isn't her body. Maybe it's what everyone expects her to have, but it's not what feels _right_ anymore. What's she supposed to say though? _No?_ Yeah, nice try, Kimbo. She sinks deeper into the tub so that the soap suds rise over her chest.

She doesn't want anyone to see cisgender Kim.

Meanwhile, freakin' _Legally Blonde: The Musical_ is playing. Kim's sad that she didn't actually get to perform "_What You Want"_ with her friends. Instead she's having intense gender dysphoria over the one thing she thought she wanted back, the thing that makes everyone happy.

"_What you want, you wanna be partyin' with us all night long. What you want, you wanna be strong."_

"_Be strong!"_

"_...One thirty four… Not good enough. Try again. Go!"_

"Hi honey," Anne says, taking a seat on the bath mat besides Kim, looking at her so warmly, like nothing has ever changed between them, even though everything has. She reaches her hand out to stroke Kim's hair, and Kim instinctively leans into the touch, nuzzling against her palm like a happy kitty. It feels nice to be touched.

"Are you feeling okay, Kimmie?" Anne asks, wincing at the nuzzle. Like she doesn't want Kim anywhere near her.

Kim pauses mid-nuzzle and thinks about that. "Yeah," she lies. She backs further into the tub, noting how the fat on her thighs slides up the curve of the tub, how the sweat keeps dripping down her skin. She feigns a smile. "I really like what I'm working on at least."

"It is incredible work," Anne sighs and looks to the side. This all seems so disappointing, so anti-climatic. Droll even. This isn't the long awaited arrival it was supposed to be, it's nothing.

"You're vegan, I heard?" Anne asks.

Kim shrugs. That's a traumatic memory and a half. What with the wolf in New Hampshire nearly eating her alive.

Her head droops down and if she narrows her eyes, she can see her stomach under the soap. Just… there. She can touch it, she could touch her vagina too. She can do all those things now, but she doesn't want to. It's all… fake. Like everything below the water isn't real.

When her breasts rise above the water, she covers them with her arms and presses them flat as she can. She doesn't like them, she tries to hide it by playing it off like she's embarrassed, but Ann's expression doesn't change.

It hasn't at all the whole night.

Tonight was supposed to mean something.

Kim closes her eyes. Her mom just starts… talking, and Kim responds like anyone would. But she doesn't even know what she's saying. She's sure her mom makes sense, but it's just so boring. She hates herself for this, she hates that she's a liar. That she just keeps lying to everyone.

She cries. Mom doesn't notice. Kim looks to her mom with a sweaty face with eyes so irritated by tears that they burn red. She feels a scratch rip down her wrist, it's hot and raw. Blood hot as boiling pasta water drips down her arms, burning await the skin and exposing more and more scars. Another cut crosses over it, again and again. Cuts all over, only one is sideways. Back when she didn't understand how to cut properly.

The blood spills into the water, but only for a moment. The wounds close up into scars quickly, The second wrist follows, and this time the blood splatters against her hips. It burns and sears like fire, her hips split apart and open with more cuts and bruises.

A _crack!_ at her face and her whole head jerks back and falls into a ceramic. Did Anne punch her? No, it was some kind of phantom punch. Kim rubs her cheek, bits of shattered tile falling from her hair. A black eye plumes, and she spits blood that knocks one of her teeth loose. She tries to charge forward, to attack whoever is doing this to her but a phantom fist grips her by the throat, dragging her high into the air.

All of her scars appear one by one — Kim is so used to pain by now that it doesn't bother her, but it does make her cry when the stomach scar reignites. The navel erupts in tendrils of ugly, bloody scars that Shego didn't let Kim heal, made her brandish like a logo.

Kim feels Bonnie coming, feels her dripping over Kim's legs. She screams and her voice falls into a scratchy tenor. She kicks her legs wildly, but they just shrink away with the rest of her.

When the phantom has had enough of her, it drops Kim back down. Naked, she stumbles before her mother, skin pale and taut. She feels the vagina flip back into a penis and she looks up at this woman and even still — Mom doesn't seem to care. "Oh," she says, as if she just realized what she forgot to buy at the grocery store.

_Oh_.

Kim screams.

"_Good thing you can't actually do any of that, KP, or at least — I'm not that much of a sucker to allow it."_

Ron.

She's in his aura. She failed. Her mind explodes in fragments of memory as everything melts away and she's brought back to the beginning...

...

Okay, back to one. Kim knocks on her parents' door, stomach twisted into a knot. Anxious, maybe they're not even home yadda yadda yadda. They open up, get excited, don't notice anything wrong and hug her tight. The three of them cry for a while, Kim laughs eventually because it's all so silly, you remember it… or do you? What's happening.

They pull back and Kim looks up sheepishly because _oh no, Kim's trans, what now_?

Except this time they do notice. They do realize she's far shorter than she should be, far skinnier, far more wide eyed. They see how the anatomy isn't quite right, they notice the patches of gray on her face where there shouldn't be, and they pick up on the alterations in her voice.

Kim wishes her parents would just say something, she sucks at managing these kinds of moments. But she just has to try.

"It's been a long few months… um, I haven't avoided you because of… any of this..." she gestures at her flat chest. Is this real? It's all so fast, she almost liked the first version more where she could think a little. But life be like that sometimes. She pauses. Breathe, Kim, breathe.

Kim steps back and looks at her parents, trying to be tough and hold it together. It's hard when they look at her like something is wrong. Nothing's wrong, she's trans, she's happy. She even has a girlfriend!

"I can explain… I'm just scared of…" Kim pauses.

Is it okay for Kim to tell her parents that her best friend is a monster who has nearly killed her more than once?

Will they believe her?

Kim points at her throat and bites her lip, holding back a sob. She touches the scar Ron left when he strangled her. Her thumb glides the vicious cut so close to her jugular, from when she had to hurt herself to get Ron out of her stupid body.

Kim knows that if she doesn't say his name — she's too scared to — that her parents will think it was Shego that did this to her, and maybe some of her many bruises are owed to that corpse, but this is Ron. Her best friend, the guy who promised her he would be so much more than this. He's the one killing her. Not Shego; he made sure of that.

Kim dares to say his name; she tells her parents a story… then Kim takes a bath.

...

Kim is naked in the tub listening to _Legally Blonde _again, she's okay with it. It gives her comfort, it reminds Kim of her best friends at work. Her Mother comes in, it starts off impersonal, Kim feels guilty about letting her bare childish chest sit above the soap suds, but she wants them to see it and know that this is her.

Anne asks her, "Kimmie… um… I love you so much, b-but — I know you don't want me to see, but can you stand up? Please?"

Kim frowns and pulls away from her mom, taking in a deep breath. She hates this, hates having to exhibit her body like some kind of show and tell project.

Like _here's how to NOT take care of yourself._

Who cares anyways? It's not like Kim has much longer to live anyways.

Kim stands up and water slips down her sides. Not wanting to face her mom, she looks at the ceiling. Already, her mother is gasping at all the scars Kim was just reminded herself of so vividly. The black eye, the missing tooth… not even one of her childhood missions could have inflicted any one of those upon her.

"Hey, it's okay, Kimmie," Anne says, hands gently wrapping around Kim's shoulder blades. Kim guesses that she is crying, she's so used to it now that it doesn't really bother her. She feels scared when her body gets closer to her mommy's, when her head pushes against mommy's chest. It doesn't make Kim feel safe like her mommy wants it to.

"You're my brave girl," Mommy whispers. That sort of helps. Kim takes in a deep breath and doesn't move, stays perfectly still. "If you need to take a break, I can step out for a few minutes…"

"N-no," Kim stutters, shaking her head. "You should — let's just get it over with."

Kim pulls back and looks at her mommy fiercely.

Mommy nods, gulping back her own sob and watching Kim carefully. Kim notices how Mommy's eyes consistently linger on the penis, the newest scar of Kim's, whenever her eyes flit over it. All of it must be so much for her to see and understand. The forever warped anatomy, the totally underdeveloped body.

Then Mommy says something else.

"You're starving yourself."

It isn't a question; bulimia has taken a backseat to everything else.

"It's not your fault," Kim's voice shimmers. "I'm just — I'm really messed up."

Mommy presses her teary eyes into her hand, and it's hard for Kim to watch so she looks away. Tentatively, Kim reaches out her hand and presses it into Mommy's shoulder. But it doesn't feel like it's helping. Maybe comforting isn't Kim's role in this, maybe she just made it worse like she always does…

"Honey, we need to talk, the three of us," Mommy says. "When you're finished here… can you come downstairs?"

Kim frowns.

Mommy reacts before Kim can even speak to that, "No rush! I — I want you to take your time today…"

Kim nods slowly, gently kneeling back into the tub. The water burns and her red-tinged skin ignites for a second as she falls back in. "C-can you stay with me?"

Mommy's cheeks burn at that, and for whatever reason, it makes Kim feel sort of good to not be the one blushing for once. Actually, it makes Kim giggle.

"I'm here because I want to spend time with you, um, Mom," Kim says, looking over to her iPhone on the toilet seat. "You can shut the music off. I want to hear about your life."

Mommy smiles, and then reaches over to the iPhone. Tech savvy as ever, she figures it out right quick. Kim looks away, focusing on the dripping faucet when — _Splash._

"Move over," Mommy mutters, so Kim does so, and she starts to feel really excited. Mommy's wet hands dive into her hair, gently massaging her scalp while spreading a thick layer of shampoo in. It's so… comforting. It makes Kim cry some more, because she never thought in a million years that her parents could ever love her like this again.

_Please don't let this be another illusion, Ron. Please let me have this._

Ron snickers inside her mind but the scene continues.

"Well, there isn't much to say — " Mommy says when this act of kindness starts to become normal. "Hey, I wanted to ask, since when were you so into show tunes?"

Kim grins, thinking about that in particular. Because she _does _have friends on the outside. "Um — my best friend, Rhino, likes to make monthly playlists for me."

Mommy raises an eyebrow. "Rhino? Kim, honey, a gangster — "

"Rhino's my driver!" Kim blurts out. "He's really nice — he makes me smoothies when I'm sad, a-a-and — it'd be kinda awkward but I want you guys to meet my friends. Rhino, Mugsy, Vinny, Hank, and Big Daddy are all like family to me and — "

"Maybe we should hold on that for a little bit, Kimmie," Mommy sighs, some regret lingering under her eyes. As if this is all moving too quickly. "God, you remember that Mr. Dootenheimer I always complained about. You wouldn't believe me what he said the other day…"

Kim smiles, she kinda wants to turn around and face her mommy, but she's still feeling sort of shy about her body and how disappointing it is, how hard it is for other people to look at it.

"Kimmie, you don't have to be scared of me."

Kim frowns, how does her mommy always know?

"It's okay, you want to turn around, right?"

Kim's cheeks are burning. She nods though. And after a bit more coaxing, turns around. She's so narrow her hips don't even hit the rims of the tub. She can sit cross legged and it's okay. She hesitates and looks down sheepishly. "I don't think you can call me Bubblebutt anymore, Mommy…"

Kim winces; it's sort of a mean trick, to slip that _Mommy_ in there, especially out loud and to her face. She just really needs _that_ right now. It's weird, she's never really seen herself as a trauma victim but now it's more obvious than ever. She starts to feel shitty for even making her Mommy look at her when she's in this deteriorated state…

"I love you, Kim."

Kim's heart stops.

...What?

"I know you want to leave soon," Mommy sobs. "But I really hope you reconsider… I — I miss…" Mommy doesn't finish her sentence, she just pulls Kim in and lays back in the tub, letting Kim's feather-light body rest on top of hers.

It makes Kim feel like one of her cats when they sleep on top of her when she's naked. It makes her jealous. She kinda wishes she brought her cats with her, or that'd be mean, her cats would get stressed out. They just moved to a strange new place and —

Mommy rubs smooth circles into Kim's back.

Eventually, Kim's eyelids grow heavy...

* * *

Kim wakes up and it's dark, her cheek pressed against one of the couch pillows. Oh no, did she — yawning, she rises up and finds herself in the living room, dressed snug in pajamas. Pajamas she knows are hand-me-downs from Jim & Tim. Clutching a knitted blanket, she looks to her parents.

"Sorry," Kim frowns. "I guess I needed that, huh?"

"It's okay," Mommy smiles, nodding to a glass of water on the end table besides Kim. Just how Kim likes it.

Dry-mouthed, she hungrily downs half the glass, sliding her knees off the couch and sitting up to look her parents in the eyes.

Before she can say anything, Daddy cuts in. "How long were you planning on staying with us, Kimmie-cub?"

Oh man, she knows where this is going. "A few days?" Kim asks. "We have a campaign coming up soon, so I'd have to go back for that…"

"We think you should stay longer, Kimmie," Mommy sighs.

Yep. This is what she was expecting… it's hard to argue though when her parents have already done such a bang-up job of taking care of her.

Still, Kim shakes her head. "I have to work. We… are doing really cool stuff right now, stuff that's better than what I was doing in high school and — "

"But Kimmie-cub," Daddy intervenes. "You're hurting yourself..."

Kim can't deny that.

"You need to see a doctor," Mommy adds on hastily. "You need to stay with us so we can take care of you."

Kim wants that — she wants someone to take care of her. She can already see it now. Maybe she gets to sleep in bed with parents tonight, maybe at some point they let her bring the cats home with her… she steps down from the Bermuda Triangle and gets to just live with her parents and get healthy again. Maybe live a normal life! Maybe she'll even go to college like she was supposed to.

But Kim is _dying_ for a reason.

She shakes her head. "No."

Kim can't think of a single time in her life that she's disagreed with her parents.

Mommy tries again, "Kimmie, you're telling us about your mobster friends and I believe you… I believe you have a friend named Rhino who really loves you, but — I don't think your friends see what we're seeing right now."

They don't need to say it.

They see someone starving themselves, someone who is getting mutilated at every mission and doing nothing to fix it. Someone who decided a while back that they were going to die within the year so what's the point in trying.

Mommy gets up and walks across the room, Kim pulls the blanket tighter and tries to hide.

"Kimmie, we know Shego hurt you sometimes and hit you," Mommy sighs, reaching under the blanket and taking Kim's ice cold hands. "It sounds like… she did worse than you realize. We need to take you to see a psychiatrist, Kimmie. You need to let us help you."

Kim's lip quivers. This isn't fun anymore, this is scary. People are going to lock her up in a padded cell if they start to see what's really going on within her mind, a-a-a-and they're wrong too!

"It's not Shego's fault," Kim whimpers. "It's Ron too, Ron's been — "

"Hey, sorry, we're late."

Kim looks up and sees her little brothers next to the coat rack. They look so mature now, dressed up in cute outfits and jackets, it scares Kim, and when Jim and Tim look over to their big sister the hero, and see — whatever _this_ is — they even get teary-eyed.

They are bigger than Kim too. Probably smarter.

Kim's leg nervously bobs up and down, and her teeth chatter. She can't hear what her mommy is telling her. She keeps muttering under her breath. "No, no, no, no, no…" She sweats, she tries so hard not to scream, she does sob. She feels like a toddler, she just starts crying and she can't explain why. Her words blubber into gibberish. Mommy pulls Kim close to her chest to protect her, and Kim screams into Mommy's breasts. She kicks and writhes and —

— Daddy gives little Kimmy her Pandaroo. The soft plush is bigger than she remembered, and it feels nice against her arms when she squeezes it. Mommy nuzzles Kim's hair and sits besides her, and that seems to help a little bit. Kim's still crying, but this isn't so bad now.

Ugh, she needs to snap out of it. This is really bad.

Kim runs her thumb under her eye to catch the tears and looks to her brothers. "Sorry," she sighs. It's sort of hard to breathe — her heart is still racing. This is intense. She might need to lie down again soon.

"Honey, I've never seen you like this before," Mommy says, keeping her arm around Kim's bony shoulders.

Kim looks up to her. "Huh?"

Dad pops in, "You've just always been so driven, Kimmie-cub. Even when you were in elementary school, you were always so serious."

Kiim sighs. She's still driven and serious, she just cries about it more often. They don't understand who she even is if they're saying that. "I'm working on important projects right now, I — I can't be here for too long."

"But honey," Mommy pulls Kim closer, and it's hard to deny the warmth she gives her. "_Why you_? I thought you moved away last year because of all this."

Well maybe life she thought she wanted was as good as a death sentence — but how do you tell that to someone you love so dearly? You can't really.

"Kim," one of her brothers says. She looks up to them slowly. "It's okay for you to take a break you know." Oof. It really stings when it's from her brothers. She's supposed to be telling them what to do, but instead…

"I have to do this, guys," Kim says, hands folding onto her lap._ I wouldn't feel alive if I wasn't._

"But Kim — " Mommy scoffs, no, not scoffs, she wouldn't… but it still sounds mean. "You are hanging out with people named Rhino, they can't be…"

"Rhino's my best friend," Kim whispers, fists pulling her skin white. "You don't know him."

_You don't know that I've done so much worse._

"Kimmie, we're on your side," Mommy says, playing with Kim's shoulders, rocking her back and forth. "We love you — "

"No you don't!" Kim spits, and her voice cracks like glass, she's so upset. This isn't why she came home, this isn't she is looking for. Well, she doesn't know what she's doing, but it wasn't this, right? She wants them to love her, and maybe they say they love her, but they love — love — s-someone else! She doesn't know! She stamps her foot on the floor. "I'm fighting for something that matters just like I always have! What changed?!"

No one says anything for a second, her daddy just looks kinda sad. "You changed, honey," he frowns.

"Y-yeah, Kim," Tim manages to stutter out. "You don't look like yourself."

Oh, so that's it then, huh? It's just because she's trans, huh? Maybe she's short and little and bony and starving and bleeding and dying — because it makes people uncomfortable to look at her and see what she has withered into? Well — well maybe that's not her fault! Maybe Kim is trying, maybe she's… her head really hurts. She feels kinda sick.

Kim steps back onto the couch and her mommy takes her in, holding her close again and whispering nice things into her ear. "It's okay, Kimmie, it's okay… we don't understand what happened to you…"

"...I don't either…" Kim whimpers.

"...it's okay, Kimmie, no one here is judging you," Mommy takes Kim by the flat chest and holds her back, rubbing these little gentle circles into her temple now. "We want to help you get better, but I think that means staying with us a while longer than you may have wanted to."

Kim looks out at her family again, this all seems so wrong. She thinks she knew this though, that this would happen that is. That they'd ask her to stay and that maybe she would take them up on that, because deep down she knows she's not well. She feels Mommy run her hands over her messed up wrists, she feels the fingers brush against the white ridges over and over again, and she knows Mommy is trying not to cry, she wants to be strong for her little girl.

Kim likes the idea of being a little girl again, even though she just spent a month learning that it wasn't healthy and wasn't going to say her. But she likes wearing kid pajamas and being held, she likes Pandaroo a lot. But that isn't Kim Possible, is it? It's just sort of what's left…

"But I'm still me," Kim says.

"We know, sweetheart, you're — you're just kinda sick right now," Mommy says. "Wouldn't your friends want you to feel better?"

Kim thinks about that. They would. Big Daddy and Hank have practically adopted her, and that wouldn't have happened before she started unraveling at the seams.

But what if she wasn't there? They're all so… happy. Even Nong Man. They like what she wants them to do, they like helping her, they like Kim and…

"Kim, if your friends really loved you," Mommy says, clutching Kim's bicep tight. It pinches, but Kim still likes being held. "They would be happy you decided to take some time with us. So please… stay with us."

That makes Kim really want to stay.

But would that life even be?

Kim sighs and stands up. She lets Pandaroo drop into one hand and dangle at her side. Maybe she should drop Pandaroo.

No, she doesn't want to. She's so fucking scared, she hates herself for letting dumb emotions overtake her like this. Ron cackles at her from miles away.

"If… if this is how you want it to be, I can't stay." Kim says. "There's work to do."

Kim wants that so much to be final, but Daddy looks over to Mommy, as if waiting for permission on something. He shakes his head, almost sneering, and looks down at her. "Kimberly Ann Possible, you're not leaving and that's final. We need to bring you to a doctor, you need to rest, you need to — "

Daddy keeps yelling — or, he might not even be yelling, she doesn't know — she just knows it scares her. His raised voice, his height, all aimed at her. Her heart beats so fast, it hurts.

Daddy's face stretches to weird proportions, his voice gets dark. It makes Kim confused. Why is this man yelling at her? She can't understand any of the words, it's like there is some kind of wall separating the two of them. Is he going to hit her? Kim doesn't want to get hit anymore. She feels short of breath.

Mommy reaches towards her, and Kim's scared of those hands. She doesn't want anyone to touch her, she just wants to be left alone. She shifts away from, heart beat still accelerating.

Kim feels this dread rising up through her stomach and into her throat — she feels… tendrils clambering up her, holding onto the ridges in her flesh. She can't get them to go away, little spikes of power wrap up her mouth and clench her teeth.

Kim wants to warn her family to get away but by then it's too late.

Blue energy whips out of her back, planting itself into the ground and raising her higher into the air. Her eyes burn both fury and power, a sapphire glow casting itself over her range of vision. Kim snarls as the power overtakes her.

"_Hey Mr. and Mrs Dr.'s P,_" Ron's voice comes out of Kim's mouth. "_Sorry I hafta do this — but ol' Kimmie-cub here needs to be taught a lesson._"

* * *

Kim falls. She sees the tendrils dig into the floor above her and kick up sparks when they drag through the wooden boards. She sees her family flinch, she feels fear for them, but she drops too deep for her parents to be visible. They shrink to the size of ants and Kim's head bends backwards, cracking against its neck. Her home is floating in a void of dark blue, and Kim can see through the bottom of the house as if the bottom were made of glass.

But she falls. Tendrils of blue and black twist around her, lashing in and out. They crash into each other and splinter into sharp white light. Ron's voice coos in and out too, a higher, happier Ron. Her best friend Ron.

_"Ah-yup-yup, Mama didn't raise no fool!"_

_"Never be normal!"_

_"Dance? You, me. Average guy."_

_"Out there… in here…"_

_"Naco Night is no more… oh, and I need three more bucks."_

_Ah-yup-yup, Mama didn't raise—_

_Never be norm—_

_Dance? You, me. Average—_

_Out there…_

_Naco Night is…_

_...in here…_

…_oh and I need—_

_Youwanttogotothefestivalasmydate?!  
Adate,thatwould  
bethelementofsurprisebutI'vebeendownthisroad  
before...unless,notthatI'masking  
'mnotinit  
ThatstuffwasbadKP,butyou  
Knowwhatwas  
worse?Spendingawholesummerawayfromyou  
__Wegotamodel  
righthere!Whynot?  
You'rebeautiful.  
KPIjustwanttokeepyousafe,ifyougot  
Hurtthat'saloss  
toobigtoocompute._

Kim closes her eyes and takes it in. She used to talk to Ron like this every day, and that… only a little more than a year ago, even in January they were still on friendly terms. She looks down at the incoming black, and feels her bones freeze all over. This is how Kim Possible dies, sort of anti-climactic.

She looks back at the tendrils creating the shifting walls and tries focusing, tries finding Ron's voice once again but by now, she's too deep down and those voices are miles above her head, swirling around in a vortex. There's a different voice, a high pitched chattering that sounds vaguely familiar to her but it's not what she wants.

She wants to hear Ron, not that girl...

Dark blue becomes black and she slips into an abyss.

How did everything get so messed up so fast?

...something snags on Kim's wrist and her whole body flips over the shoulder, slamming into a previously unseen wall of monkey magic. Her body smooshes into the surface, a bone snapping in her shoulder and it sears. Finally, she screams and her voice pushes through her whole body, scratching up her innards in her anguish. Her voice is dark and scratchy and trans.

"Calm down, I got you," a high voice says, one Kim usually associates with being snide. She looks up and sees Will Du's beetle black eyes gleaming at her. A crack of 'lightning' and his mullet flares up, wavering in the surge of power around them. His skin is almost translucent, or maybe the Mystical Monkey Power she sees past his body_ is_ his body.

Kim stares at Will dumbly, eyes flitting back to the beginning of her fall. It's like looking up from the eye of the hurricane she imagines; she has fallen for miles and everything above and around her is destruction. It scares her.

Kim closes her eyes; it doesn't matter that Will saved her, she is still going to rot here. Somehow, she feels peace come to her and the girlish chatter she heard earlier gets louder. Her ears prick up and she realizes that it's her voice — she just doesn't recognize it since what happened to her since she said these things.

"_There's still fireworks."_

"_Ron… I… I got nothing! Drakken finally won..."_

"_Told you graduation wasn't the end of the world…_"

"Stop!" Will cries out.

Kim blinks. She's kneeling across him now, she still feels real, though the magic is digging its feelers into every pore in her body, threatening to crack her open like a nut and eat her alive. She looks back up at the dollhouse that is her home and sees thin beams of blue coming in and out.

Kim looks back at the vortex and hears her voice again, slipping in and out of the cacophony. She eyes Will carefully.

"This place is as much Ron's as it is your's," he says, holding a translucent hand to her eye and pivoting it about his wrist.

"It's… it's eaten so much," Kim says dumbly. "This is… this is what happens to what the Mystical Monkey Power consumes?"

Will nods gravely and Kim looks back up, the storm recontextualizing itself into everything that Ron must have stowed away to become this awful, and she sees her own section here at the bottom, the deep dark black where her own memories are stored. She bets she's done this subconsciously everytime she comes in contact with Ron's power. But really, she doesn't want to forget. That's what has kept her from veering too far off the path she cuts. Enough blood has been shed, and she knows she could easily kill more.

Kim sighs, her mind is hard to control here, it shifts about and she can't focus. She looks at Will, and thinks about how the Mystical Monkey Power consumed him alive, trapping him here… or maybe this is just a manifestation of him.

She hopes it's not _really_ Will.

The black rushes up quickly and the higher she rises, the more she feels her body shift and collapse. She looks to her hands and sees they are missing, her wrists ending in stumps. Then they fall away, leaving her with no arms. Her hips go next, more and more of her consumed by the power around her. It doesn't hurt though, her flesh becoming one with the power and drifting away. It's the only way out after all, somehow Kim knows that.

Kim's lips are wet, she feels a line of drool coming from the corner of her mouth. She gazes up at this far away image of Ron destroying her family, and feels the blood within her curdle. Feels a squeeze where her hands should be, as if she were tightening her knuckles. They're still there, she just can't quite access them yet. She almost laughs under her breath; she's _so_ not scared.

Her rapid heartbeat slows to something cold, she's sure it matches the calm of a predator. A wet crunch echoes in her ears with the anticipation of the kill. She thirsts. Enough is enough, the boy must die. It's time to finally let go of the feelings Drakken warned her about last year.

Kim tilts her head back, so close now to Ron. So close to stopping him.

It's just her head that's left, and even now the power curls around her jaw folding away her flesh. She winces, anticipating the crash back to reality but when she does hit the floor, it doesn't hurt, it's just soft. She drifts through the black, tangible form completely gone now. She just floats.

Kim's about to be reborn. Pure black drifts into a white, and Will's voice whispers into her ear.

"_Amateur, what did I just warn you about? Don't be like me."_

* * *

The tendrils lash in and out, moving fast as the wind and cutting like knives. Though this particular parry misses Kim's father entirely, he screams when the space between the tendril lashes erupts in a torrent of pain that cuts into him. He falls back, shirt sliced and bloodied.

Ron cackles to himself, turning to Kim's mother. She's the one Kim has thought of most, so she should be the first to go. The tendrils lumber and move Ron, or rather, Ron piloting Kim's body, close enough to Anne. One tendril grabs her forcefully by the chin, holding her head still while the second tendril reels back, its head splitting into a gaping maw shaped like a flower. It shrieks.

"_No hard feelings, Mrs. Dr. P_," Ron slurs, "_But this is a save the world thing. For me to stop Kim, you all need to die, unfortch._"

Anne's eyes lift a centimeter in dim recognition, her body covered in too much blood for her to really care. The whole Possible residence has been flipped onto its side and the entire family is about to go under. Ron wishes they would at least scream for him, so Kim would have to hear, but no matter. He reels back the chosen tendril and it lashes out, aiming to claw Anne's face off.

Ron's lips wet with the anticipation of the kill.

The tendril draws near —

— and a hand lashes out of nowhere and grabs it, squeezing the life of it. It writhes and shrieks but the floating fist holds it in place, resisting the coils that smack at it. The tendril bursts and splashes of blue power hit the floor, and the fist rises. Slowly, an arm materializes underneath it. It's blue, as if it were Ron's own magic reformed to create —

— no, it can't be. She can't…

Ron narrows his eyes and hits at the phantom arm with all three tendrils at once.

The fist opens its hand and another hand spindles out. They whir with the same rhythm of the tendrils, holding a stunning defense. A third limb appears — a leg this time — and strikes its heel into one of the joints on the tendrils and it screams before dissipating. Ron slashes at the figure again and it vaults into the air.

White slashes erupt between the blue ones and fly in all directions, but the invisible figure is unharmed. It plummets down and kicks Ron in the face, he falls onto his back and slides across the floor. Kim's pitiful body is so weak; he should've come here in person.

He looks at the creature, seeing a body begin to blossom and join the limbs together. Ron lunges at it and this time, the hands manhandle him, whipping the tendrils around him himself before letting him go. He flies into a plaster wall which collapses underneath him. The blue figure turns towards Kim's parents and Ron sees the hand fly to its neck, bunching up a handful of wavy hair that appears only then.

The hair falls slack against the shoulder and the figure turns around, revealing Kim's hateful eyes. Still blue, still stuck in the Mystical Monkey Power, but nineteen years old again. Nearly identical to who she was before the change, just trans. She grits her teeth and marches towards him fast. He readies himself to kill her, but somehow she's faster.

Kim reaches out and pushes her hand into his chest, and it phases through. Everything within Ron feels acidic and heated. Kim twists him under her arm and pulls free a beam of blue, letting it sweep all across the home. The beam strikes each family member and when it finishes passing over them, it leaves the bodies refreshed and unharmed.

Ron blinks. He didn't know he could heal on that kind of scale… how did Kim —

Kim shoves Ron back and rams her fist into his jaw, knocking him backwards. The back of his head hits the ground and everything goes black —

— for him at least.

* * *

Kim tumbles backwards, body thrown by her own phantom fist that is now flesh. She rolls against the floor, every bone and tendon sparking with tension and she hits the ground face-first, bloodied and bruised. She lifts her head, eyelids busted up and falling back over her eyes.

"Kim?" her mother says, gently cradling Kim's head and pulling it over her lap. "Oh my God, Kim…"

Warm, her family crowds around her, touching and holding her. Their touch is different to her body, she thinks it's because her body is different now. She thinks it warped along with her phantom form. She thinks she fulfilled her promise to Yori at least, and she's still sort of alive.

Before her eyes shut on themselves again, Kim catches a spark of blue near the door. A spark that means she has to _work_. She hoped she would have been able to knock Ron away, but he's still her. Just now he's the phantasm instead of her.

Unable to stabilize along a grounded form, the tendrils flap wildly and carve cracks into the floor, but promptly, a sapphire mist passes over the center. An oblong head swings out from the dark, its blue eyes staring at Kim, twisting its features into something hideous.

"_Aw, so you got your magical girl transformation and you thought that's a wrap_?" Ron smirks, his form crackling with power. Like Kim was only moments ago, it's just a projection from the Mystical Monkey Power, but it's still there and still going to kill her if she doesn't move.

Kim's knees burn as she forces herself back up. Her parents try to pull her back but she breaks from their reach and marches closer and closer to Ron.

"_That's a good girl_," Ron quips, raising his fists to his chest, and when Kim keeps her hands level with her hips, he sighs. "_C'mon KP. You need to at least try_."

Kim quirks an eyebrow.

Ron sighs and lets the tendrils fly at Kim, each sharp enough to pierce her flesh and skewer her. She closes her eyes and steps back, body moving into a bob drifting out from the line of fire from each initial strike. They keep moving, keep slashing at her in a flurry and as if her body were being yanked by puppet strings, she bobs out of the way each time. Between the cuts, the gap to escape is narrow yet each time she somehow manages to find it. She threads the needle, so to speak.

It ends with the four tendrils taking four corners around her. There's a moment where she can feel lines of power forming into a web between all four, and down those lines rides sparks of power. The whole section the tendrils cut ignites in hot white pain, but again Kim dodges these blasts and throttles into the air. She comes down hard, body slamming one tendril out of the air and into the ground. It writhes under her hold so she chops it at the head; it shrieks and becomes a sickly translucent white, like a worm, and dissipates.

Kim growls, she feels the second tendril charging from behind. She rolls onto her back, and switches her limbs to where her back was — and the tendrils slip in through the gap. She grabs on with all four limbs and swings herself on top, using all of her strength to plow the tendril right into the floor where it erupts.

Kim hits the floor at a roll and comes back up just in time to face off with the third tendril. She doesn't have as much time to prepare a good kill move for this one so she punches it head on, and her arm rips through the thing. As it explodes, white lines like hairs break off the surface of blue and cut into Kim's arm from all directions. Some of the streaks fly into the air and cut through the ceiling. Dust cascades from above, plaster crumbling and giving away to Kim's bedroom on the second floor, which tumbles into the living room.

Kim winces and looks back at Ron. One more tendril. "I hate you."

Kim grabs this one by the head, and jams her fingers into its middle, managing to split the thing in two. It screams and she sees Ron flinch as she does it, she drops it and moves in towards Ron fast. It's so amusing to her when his phantom form squirms like this. "_That's impossible, you can't — _" he stutters, " _— you can't —_ "

"Check the name, asshole," Kim smirks and sends her fist right into phantom Ron's jaw. It hits him like a truck, though he puts up a helluva resistance. It slams into her fist, threatening to compress all her bones into one centimeter. But she resists and he falls, like a puppet that had its strings snipped.

Kim laughs at him, this is so delicious.

Ron shrieks at her like a child and runs at her; if anything she feels sorry for him. He tries to punch her in the head but her hands swat out, slapping his elbows and shooting his arms over her head. She grabs him by the forearms, squeezing his elbows together and sidekicking him in the gut. He falls back.

Kim swings into the air, both shoes clamping around Ron's thin neck. He chokes and she spins in the air, twirling like a corkscrew, her right foot unwinding, whirling all around her, and coming back to Ron's jaw. He falls onto his ass and Kim stands over him.

She gnashes her teeth and brings both hands over her head. Ron throws up a barrier between them and for a fraction of a second, Kim catches her reflections. Her eyes are manic and even though she looks so much more like herself now, she feels more distant from 'Kim' than ever. She hates looking into the mirror like this and smashes both fists into the barrier. It cracks, so she swings again and again and again. Finally, it breaks apart and Ron falls, body draining fast.

The glowing blue becomes a milky white, body quivering like a maggot. Kim doesn't even need to hit him again to stop him, so she just lets him dissolve. Then — she turns back to her family. The house is in ruins and her family… they're scared of her she thinks. Mom's fingers dig too deeply into Jim and Tim's shoulders, like she's protecting them.

Kim steps closer and frowns. "I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen… he follows me like this now, and — I might need to relocate you, I don't know, I'm sorry. I love all of you so much and..."

Mom's expression softens. "We know, honey. But…"

Kim doesn't let her Mom finish; she doesn't want to talk about it. "I should go." She turns on her heel, she can't look at them like this. "This isn't the first time I've done this to your home — I'll leave, um, I can get some of my people to help you move fast and…"

Weak arms wrap around Kim from behind and drag her in. It's her Dad, his face nuzzling against her hair. "Kimmie-cub," he wheezes. "Please don't go."

Kim's heart sinks and she just sort of stands there awkwardly, not sure what to do so she just stays stiff as a board. "Don't you understand? I'm no good."

"No," Dad says with so much affirmation, squeezing her hand. "We will never let you go. We love you, Kim. Please, stay with us."

Well.

That's good, but also — it's the problem. She looks back to her dad and is thankful that she's crying, thankful that she can still feel these sort of things. She lets the rest of the family come and grip her tight. It doesn't do much for her honestly, but it makes them feel better she guesses and at this point, that's all she can hope for.

Kim makes a silent promise to herself, that she won't let herself die before her parents are taken care of. As soon as her death might be, she can sense it in Ron's aura that it's coming so soon. She looks back to them and though her voice stays cold, hardly wavering like it was before, she doesn't think they notice.

She tries, for their sake, to be the little girl in the bathtub who asked her mommy to stay with her, just minutes ago. She feels so off, so disgusted with her own bloodlust, it's hard to be vulnerable. Maybe she can pretend. Maybe they won't notice she's not feeling okay.

"I'll stay with you for today."

Amid the dust and crumbling plaster in the wreckage, her parents are too tired to notice how their daughter has completely disassociated. They hold her tight but she's so dumb, it doesn't feel like anything. Throat closing in, voice hoarse, Kim knows she should say something else.

But she just can't bring herself to so she stays silent.

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Hi! Appreciate your readership - comments and stuff always appreciated. : ) I actually wrote first half of this chapter a long time ago - it was something I really needed to get off my chest at like 2am one night. The second half is something I wrote this week and lowkey - totally inspired by the Kingdom Hearts II combat system. I choreographed the fight to Yoko Shimomura's "The Other Promise." Hope it reads well._

_Now for those who didn't know, I'm Scared Too used to be one fic that continued past the ending of Act One but I deleted all of it because I didn't like where it went. However, that version had a lot of gems and guess what? The next four chapters are all from that version - two of them need heavy editing to get them to match this new story, but a lot of what comes next is pre-written. _

_So we're going to go on a brief hiatus while I create the next seven chapters and when they launch, it'll be one a day for a week. The seven make for their own wonderful arc that's really going to dig into the healing aspect of this story… but um, only when we get to the sixth and seventh chapters haha. Be prepared for Dark!Kim and some really violent moments before that happens. _

_I'm estimating two-three weeks on getting these online. If you haven't yet, you should sub to my main account! I'll be posting a ton of other fics between now and then for other fandoms (Revolutionary Girl Utena, Harry Potter, and Fire Emblem: Three Houses.) I'm doing this because I know myself and I know I'll get bored editing/re-editing old material, so I'm going to keep my channel spicy with new content so I don't drift out of this project._

_Thanks for staying with me. 3 I love this story and I hope it means something to you. If you're really into this story, you can follow me on Twitter at IAmLordMeatwad! I occasionally write about I'm Scared Too stuff there in addition to posting updates for the edits I'm slowly building into Act 1. Lastly, you can find the I'm Scared Too playlist here: bit . ly / Im-Scared-Too_


	18. Soliloquy

Kim can't deny it, it is pretty nice that the whole gang at the Bermuda Triangle decided to band together and celebrate Kim's return to them...

...so she hopes they'd don't take it too personally when she shuts that shit down; they have work to do.

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California** **  
May 30, 2008: 10:41AM**

Yori greets Kim at the entrance, her arms looping over Kim's shoulders and draping down her back. Kim presses her lips against her girlfriend's. Yori's mouth is so precious, so soft. Kim breaks into a smile at their touch, and she feels Yori's mouth mirror the grin. Kim pulls away, hungry for more, but quickly it fades.

That was it — the one catharsis she gets from restoring herself to her old age. Great. Already, she is numbing to the idea of what she needs to do next, which starts with canceling the party. She gives a parting glance to Yori before sinking into her Big "Big" Daddy persona; Kim wishes she had a life that let her enjoy the things she's been striving for but nope. Work to do and all that.

Kim digs a hand into her pocket and God — she's the same height as Yori again. She's… Kim. Through and through. She was that other version of her for so long she forgot what it felt like to be Kim Possible. Even wound up in a charcoal black three piece suit, she still feels like Kim. Trans, eighteen and a half years old, and most certainly in charge. That's the good stuff.

Kim locks eyes with Hank down the hall, Hank, who stares at with so much pride. "Boardroom — set it up?" she says.

Hank blinks. "Erm, you don't want to celebrate?"

Kim frowns; she _does _but she's also not sure if she sees the point in a celebration. Her last confrontation with Ron definitely left its mark on her; dude is nigh invincible and he wants Kim _dead _. He wants them all dead, and figuring all of this is out is going to take time. "Meeting first."

"Kim," Yori urges. "C'mon, you deserve to relax for a second and — "

"'Ey! You heard the lady!" Rhino suddenly decrees, clapping a giant hand to Kim's back. She almost falls over at his touch. Rhino cranes his neck over her head and snaps his fingers. "C'mon, let's do a li'l meeting, pronto, for our pal, KP!"

Everyone starts moving into their new positions and Kim sighs. Feels sort of bad now.

Rhino looks back at her and points a fat index finger at her. "We are still partyin' though, just lata. Imma not let you break out the window when it gets started, as per your usual, ya get?"

Kim nods, trying her hardest to smile back. She feels a pull on her hand and turns to Yori who is so close to her own face. At some point, they started holding hands. It's… nice. Kim forgot what it was like to be intimate with someone.

"What's the sitch?" Yori mutters.

Kim shrugs. "We just have to get to work. You saw what Ron pulled last month with GJ…"

Yori shakes her head. "That's not it. Tell me the truth."

Kim sighs and looks at the floor. It's very difficult to be the ever-badass Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson when she is put on the spot like this. So she tells Yori the truth.

…

She repeats the truth to head off the meeting with Yori, Big Daddy, Hank, Wade, and Nong Man.

"Ron went after my family," Kim says coldly, fishing for her presentation remote. "Nearly killed them, I'm sure some of you noticed me skim money off the budget to relocate them and keep them provided for… now that they're a target."

You could hear a pin drop.

Kim is thankful they're all giving her the mic. "I don't have long to live. It's honestly a miracle I'm alive — "

"It's not a miracle," Big Daddy interrupts, steely eyes set so intently on Kim. "You worked for your survival."

Hank raises an eyebrow, somewhat confused as to what his input could be probably, and looks to Nong Man.

Nong Man notices the other sets of eyes falling on him and sighs, pulling himself away from his usual lean against the wall. "I think Kim's right. Long as Stopstop wants Kim dead, she will, eventually, um… lose."

Kim nods. "I think I've made my plan very clear with all of you by now, in the event of my death…" she stops herself, eyes stuck on Yori; Yori doesn't know the plan. She can learn later.

Kim bites her lip and breaks from her gaze, activating the presentation.

3D holograms of Ron and his Strike Force drop into the room. Kim sighs and activates the last projection. Images of crates appear throughout the room. Off of the confusion, Wade chirps in, "Global Justice's Weapons' Library. I worked there long enough to get a full map scan."

The projections finish coming in around them, and it appears as if the meeting were being held in the Weapons' Library itself.

"...ah," Hank sighs, leaning back. "Kimberly, forgive me for being blunt, but we've talked about this. I know you _want _their weapons' stock but we aren't _ready _to take it yet. Besides, I don't think it's time for your _shift _yet."

Kim shrugs. "I don't have a choice. Besides, it's just one weapon." She points the remote out and zooms in. The projections whisk away, smaller details enlarge and leave them with a singular projection of one very familiar artifact.

"The Weather Generator?" Wade blurts out. "Whoa, Kim, isn't that kind of — " He stops himself from finishing it, but Yori picks up what he's throwing down.

" — super-villain-y?" Yori suggests.

Kim sighs. Yes, a weather generator is indeed supervillainous. "I'll give context, are we all familiar with Nestle?"

Nong Man scratches his head. "Oh man, we're back on the corporation circuit?"

"Yeah," Kim crosses her arms to her chest. "It's a good circuit to be on; they steal water."

Nong Man blinks. "And we're returning?"

"Yeah, to the Great Lakes in Michigan," Kim says. "First step in the shift is eco-terrorist, yeah?" She looks to Hank and Big Daddy to confirm.

They both nod, though Hank does throw in. "It feels fast."

"Again, not long to live, hi," Kim drawls. "Nong Man, we hit them in one week. I want you working with Wade to coordinate how we're breaking in. Yori and I can train up the goons to be ready, and — "

Yori interrupts. It throws Kim off the speech she painstakingly rehearsed.

"If you're worried about Ron killing you, why are we hitting Global Justice? Isn't that like — _the one spot _where we for certain will have to take him on?"

Kim can't find her retort fast enough, so Nong Man cuts in which is just great. "Yeah, if Stopstop's there, Kimmie you might as well call it quits."

Kim doesn't say anything and slumps back into her chair; she wonders who is going to be first to realize what is _actually _going on.

"It's a trap," Hank and Big Daddy say together.

Kim snaps her fingers for them, and points at the table. Too tired to confirm, but yeah, it's a trap, alright.

"No it's not!" Nong Man shouts, nearly spitting on accident. "For it to be a trap, Kim would need to have Kryptonite or some shit up her sleeve and as we all know — "

" — Kim _is _Ron's Kryptonite," Yori finishes, looking at Kim carefully. "Is that right?"

Nong Man droops over like a dead flower. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that everyone agrees that Kim being the deus ex machina is like — _the worst _."

Somehow, Kim finds some amusement in this. Maybe it's because she never would have guessed the asshole who taught her how to shoot good and beat people up actually cares about her. But maybe that's not surprising, maybe she should allow herself to remember more often that everyone here loves her so goddamn much… as she also loves them.

Kim pinches her forearms through the suit, wincing. "Yeah, I'm the distraction, you guys are getting us the weather machine. Sorry, I thought it was obvious."

"Kim," Yori pinches Kim's arm harder than Kim's own pinch, dragging her over onto her chair.

"I know," Kim whispers, though she recognizes she's speaking to the whole room. "See, if… if we hit Global Justice, _we know Ron will be in on it _. That gives us… something to work with. Anywhere else, no promises as to what Ron will do and _that _is how I get myself killed."

Nong Man finally takes a seat, seemingly in deep thought. It's unlike him to be so quiet.

Big Daddy pipes in, "What of Aviarius' staff?"

"Huh?" Kim sighs.

Big Daddy is seemingly put-off by Kim's fatigue, but continues nevertheless, "You've been having him work on_ it _, yes?"

"Yeah," Kim admits. She looks to the room. "Aviairius is re-developing that staff he used to steal superpowers from superheroes. I think it'll give us an advantage… but it's not like it'll work on Ron. Seems too easy. I was thinking of using it on Team Go to be honest…" She sighs again and makes pointed eye contact with Hank. "Do you know where _she's _buried?"

_She _as in Shego.

Hank swipes at his nose. "No, sorry."

Kim looks to Yori now, watching her still expression as Hank continues. "Do you even think that using the thing on Shego will work? She's, erm, _dead _and well — "

"It's one of our only shots at this whole plan working," Kim says, still looking at Yori. She needs her to react. To do… something. But Yori just stands there without the faintest hint of a reaction. Total blank slate.

Kim looks back to the team. "If it helps, I'm okay killing this time around."

This earns a squeeze to the hand from Yori, though again, Yori's face doesn't move.

Kim tries to ignore it and shuts her eyes. "I want Ron dead. I've been trying to avoid this, but after what he did to my parents…"

Yori finishes for her, "...they hit harder, we hit back harder."

Kim allows herself a smile; she said that to Hank the day Shego died. "We move fast and maybe… this time a week from now we'll all feel a bit more relaxed."

Yori squeezes Kim's hand tighter.

The team breaks and gets prepared for Kim's welcome back party. Kim stays put and looks at Yori.

"I'm sorry," she mouths, and kisses her again on the lips. Thankfully, Yori takes the kiss just fine and though Kim is sure Yori is pissed at her — it could be worse.

* * *

When Kim steps into her apartment, she doesn't see nor hear any signs of her roommates. She sighs, she was hoping they'd be here, it would make the process a lot easier. Now it's like — she's eighteen again, which is totally weird for her roomies who thought she was… younger.

Oh, and she is also very Kim Possible-looking now. If she could just tell them, it'd be easy. Now they might walk in on her and freak.

**Kim's Apartment: Foster City, California** **  
May 30, 2008: 9:56PM**

Kim glances over her shoulder at Rhino, Mugsy, and Vinny. "You guys can go, we're alright." They each set down one carry case and unzip them, all six cats shooting out at sprinting into Kim's bedroom. Very cute.

Daintily Kim twists her arm past her elbow and smiles when the metal of the Brain Tap Machine slides up against her palm.

She hates that she needs to use the thing, but just in case anything with Dom & friends goes down with them not buying Kim's explanation as to why she looks completely different… but hey, that's survival…? It's probably Machiavellian or something, whatever philosophy it is that Hank subscribes to. So it's legit. It's fair for Kim to have this thing on her.

Kim should try to just talk it out, but… she imagines she'll be tired, and will want to just use the Brain Tap Machine.

"You sure you don't want help, KP?" Rhino asks with wide eyes.

Kim sighs, running a hand through her hair. "Not really — I'm going to have to stay up all night to make sure I can at least try to talk to them first before they see me… but I'd rather you all get some shut eye."

Rhino nods and turns on his heel. "Alright, boys. Text me your addresses."

Kim almost feels a little jealous, she'd like to hang out longer but it's going to be such a tight week, everyone needs to be in tiptop shape to pull off this Global Justice heist correctly.

Slinking into her room, Kim sits on top of her shitty mattress and stares at the wall, the points of her knees meeting in a triangle. She feels sort of bad for being so broke when she clearly has the money to — for instance — pay for her apartment in Foster City for the month she's not living there in the case of her being _turned into an eight year old kid _.

Kim rolls her eyes; she has such a convoluted life. One of the cats, Seymour, jumps besides her thigh and bows his head under her hand so she can scratch his ears. He was already purring before he got to her; the cats must have missed here.

Staring at the wall, she thinks about the heist — what else is there to think about? Her blossoming relationship with Yori that's_ already _hitting snags? Or maybe the fact that she might be dead by this time next Friday?

All just to steal an evil weather machine for the purposes of… stealing back water from a corrupt corporation, and then returning it back to the people. They're not even stealing the good supervillain weapons, which is the long term goal. But like Hank said, they don't have the tech or the forces they need to take the whole weapons' library, so Kim has to settle for table scraps and make due.

Ugh.

This _definitely _isn't what Drakken wanted for her. Not what he manipulated her towards. Drakken wanted Kim to be doing something much grander than this. He wanted her to blitzkrieg the planet and take it over. Instead, she's committed to eco-terrorism. _Pah _. Nonviolent direct action. Double _Pah. _

It's hard to keep pretending. Kim trounced Ron at GJ Sacramento, and her body practically vibrates thinking about it; the shaking is the only thing to prevent her body from lashing out and killing something. She wants to lick the blood that drips from her mouth, she _wants _the kill. But that happens next Friday. She needs to wait.

Kim's body vibrates some more, but for a different reason than stopping herself from going feral. Her chest tightens and she looks over to her floor-length mirror from IKEA. She walks over to it, thinking. Sometimes, when she sees her reflection, she pictures Drakken standing behind her, tiny hands on her tense shoulders. His fingers run through the strands and slowly part the tangled hairs from each other.

Kim hates Drakken. Hates how he played her — groomed her really — but his plan undeniably worked — and Kim knows that no matter what she tries, she will never be the same Kimberly Ann Possible again. And for some reason she doesn't mind that too much. Depressed as she might be, at least she has friends who understand her now. It can be argued that maybe Kim went from feeling nothing for years to feeling way too much at once… but this is better.

This is honest.

Too bad Ron will most likely kill her next week… woof.

_"Ha, you think you're all that Kim Possible _— " oh she's doing it again. Okay. Okay. Just let it happen this time, Kim. It's generally sort of helpful.

Kim stamps the floor with enough force to straighten out her spine and gazes back at that mirror, eyes slowly sinking into something more malicious. Her back hunches with the new nasal arching in her voice and in the best impression she can do of the Bad Doctor, she finishes with, " _— but you're nooooot. Unless you can explain to me how you think you can take over the world after your suicide run against _— _what's his name again? _"

Kim sighs and shakes her head, that's not right. Drakken wouldn't joke about not knowing Ron's name anymore, not after what the so-called 'Buffoon' grew into.

"...I wouldn't call it a suicide run," Kim says to the mirror. "Homicide, sure but — "

Kim's lip twitches and out comes a familiar drawl. " — **i-d-k Princess, you've got a history with suicide, don'tcha?"**

Kim growls, as if it's not her own subconscious pissing her off. Her fingers mash against each other like they're trying to escape a Chinese finger trap. "It's only suicide with a _caveat _because I can't confirm that I'll be successful in killing Ron." Nestlé steals water from all over the world — especially impoverished places. I was thinking of lobbying against them — to de-privatize water from the corporations — "

"**Yikes,**" the Shego within Kim continues. Settling into character now, Kim's right hand lazily scrunches besides her hip.

'Shego' tries to continue but it's the nasally 'Drakken' that wins over. " _— maybe you'd stand a chance if you just used the Attitudinator as I set you up to do, Kimberly Ann! Without it, you're no villain at all, you're _— "

" — I am _too _a villain! I mean, c'mon, hello, Crime Lord standing right here?" Kim stabs at her reflection with her index finger. "Unlike _you _, I don't need the transfer of bad joojoo—"

Kim leans in with a predatory stare, stabbing at the mirror with very curmudgeonly energy, if that's a thing. "_ Mean! You're mean, agh! I am the genius _— " Kim twists her fingers towards her chest with thespian flourish. " — _who set you on this path and the attitude you're giving me _— "

Kim gets mad because her roleplay feels too realistic now. "Maybe if you answered your goddamned phone for once and fucking helped me!"

Kim freezes; she doesn't like what her reflection is showing her. It's the same mad eyes that stared back at her when she chopped at Ron's barrier over and over again. She looks away and tries a joke; Shego was always good at comedic relief. "**Wow, someone's clingy. Glad we never actually dated."**

Kim doesn't say anything, 'Shego' is always the segue when her one woman show gets a little... dense. Not wanting too hard to admit that she's losing her goddamn mind, Kim scoops up one of her cats — Alan, the chubby one who eats the fastest. Alan's eyes widen briefly but he immediately falls into a slew of purring as Kim cradles him back and forth with one arm.

"**Aw, wow, classic defense mechanism. You see this shit, Drak?"**

"_ Oh, why I do, Shego! Kimberly Ann is weaponizing her cat so we won't be mean to her!" _

Kim frowns — she should have anticipated 'Drakken' and 'Shego' picking up on that. "I don't want to be evil," she mutters.

"**But you want to be a villain?**" 'Shego' asks.

"I'm going to be classically perceived as a villain in history, not that I think I should be one. I just want to rule the world and keep it safe and sustainable."

'Shego' blows a raspberry and yells, "**Boo! You just want to kill shit."**

"_ Kill the Buffoon that is," _'Drakken' echoes.

"I don't want to kill Ron!" Kim snaps. "But what else am I supposed to do?! If I don't kill him, he's going to kill me and — "

" — **it's not fair for someone else to kill you when you've been planning on offing yourself for almost a year now, yeah?"**

Kim blinks back tears and collapses onto her bed. Maybe if she looks away from the mirror the roleplay will just stop.

"_ Wait, Kimberly Ann… you're not seriously _— "

"**She is,** " Kim drawls from the side of her mouth. She can't help herself, she can't help but keep up the act. She shakes her head and the tears burn as they roll down her face. **"Tell him, Princess.**"

She feels her skin splinter apart like gills at the passage of those hot tears, and she feels 'Shego' breathe through the crevasses in her face.

It's not good — obviously. Kim hasn't hallucinated this hard since… she doesn't remember, it's all fuzzy. But this hurts so much, she has to look away from the mirror. The sight of neon green canyons growing in her face makes her want to vomit and… she wonders if it's because her new old body needs to be on a different dosage of meds or something.

"Yes, fine. I'm still suicidal, and it doesn't make sense! I just got my body back, I'm dating someone I really care about and — "

"_ You know, Kimberly Ann, you can have all those things _**_and still _**_have mental illness." _

Kim sniffs. "I guess."

"_ That's why the others keep pushing you to see a doc." _

"It's too late for me," Kim huffs.

"**Oh cry me a goddamned river, Princess. 'It's too late for me, wah wah,' grow up, bro,"** 'Shego' growls. " **Do the work, Kim."**

The work.

Kim hasn't heard that expression in a long time. According to Shego, the work is something you're supposed to sacrifice yourself for if you believe in it, which in her case… the work was Kim herself. Flipping Kim over to the bad guy squad, in exchange for her own life.

Kim groans and runs her fingers through her hair. "I don't know what to do."

Teeth gritted, it's hard to speak, but 'Drakken' still finds a way to widen her snarl into something workable. "_ You have a plan, don't you?" _

Kim winces. She sort of has a plan on how to off herself, yeah.

"**Careful, Doc. That's a suicide speak — Cupcake, he's asking you what your scheme is."**

"Oh," Kim sighs, hands dropping to her thighs. "Weather machine."

This gets strong gut reactions from both 'Drakken' and 'Shego,' who speak at once.

"_ Ooh _, _I love that! _" 'Drakken' chirps.

"**I hate that,** " 'Shego' says simultaneously, although really the voices clip together into an odd sound that only makes sense to Kim. " **Can you be anymore stock?"**

Through her tears, Kim laughs. This makes her feel sort of happy, in a weird way. "For Ron though… I don't know… I don't think I'll need a plan."

Suicide plan, not master plan. Kim's just assumed that by the time she gets to coordinate her own death, someone else will have done her in. Namely Ron, so Kim sure hopes she gets over her depression after she sticks Ron six feet under… because she doesn't know what comes next for someone as sad as her.

'Drakken' doesn't pick up on it. But 'Shego' does. Kim can feel 'Shego' the way she did when she let Kim kiss her. Shego always knew about these things, always played to them and kept an advantage, because it was all just a game to her. Even on her final day alive, she allowed herself to become a chess piece in Drakken's war on Kim's mind… which Kim guesses she lost, sort of.

Or maybe she's won. She's the only one of the three who really seems to be alive.

Yeah.

Kim opens her mouth, not sure of what she'll actually say, fully out of a desire to keep the conversation going, but it's then that there's a tentative knock on the door. Kim turns and it's Dom and the other roommates, staring at her like they've seen a ghost, which they might as well have.

"Miriam?" Dom stutters. "You look…"

Kim dives at the floor, scooping up the Brain Tap Machine and it aims it square at Dom's chest. Her room mates back up as if threatened and then — _Zap. Zap. Zap. Zap. _— brain tapped. Mission complete.

They'll wake up thinking Kim always looked like this.

At least now… Kim can get some sleep. After moving the bodies into their respective rooms, Kim lies up against her own bed, the shitty inflatable, and stares at the ceiling. But Kim can't sleep. Something 'Shego' said earlier won't get out of her head.

"_ Do the work, Kim _."

It makes Kim's heart pound with meaning, it gives her so much purpose. But it makes that same heart ache because after all this time, after all she has built… why is it Shego and Drakken that still know Kim best?

* * *

Kim Possible, always Kim Possible! Always a thorn in Ron's side, always driving him bats!

**Ron's Apartment: Washington DC** **  
June 5, 2008: 1:09AM**

Ron has been humiliated time and time again. Twice he has moved in for the kill with Kim, and sure one was off-the-record — but really _nothing _is off-the-record with Betty Director — but twice he has _lost, _and _no one _will let him forget it.

Hench just _loves _to strut in his office and make a show of how he could just _pull Ron's funding _and when Ron goes to Betty to complain about the harassment? She just shrugs and says, "Well, Hench _can _do that after all. I mean, who knows? We're really hurting."

It… it makes Ron so mad. Before he wanted to bring Kim in alive, try to help her, get her onto a clean path free of any blood; he doesn't want her to grow up to be like him, that's for sure. Now he needs her head on a silver platter.

A beam of blue light interrupts Ron's thoughts by drilling in from the ceiling and striking the floor. It's gentle, like water, and slowly Kim's image materializes from the beam, stepping onto Ron's carpet, dressed up in a suit and… no, it's not Kim.

It's Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson… and she's not looking too hot..

Dark rings under her eyes, skin pale and drawn taught, she's clearly underfed, hasn't been sleeping… and Ron can't do a damned thing about it. "What do you want?" he snaps.

Kim frowns. "I'm here to tell you about my latest evil scheme."

"Why?" Ron runs a hand through his short hair. "Haven't you learned time and time again from Drakken that telling the hero the scheme is a really bad strat?"

Kim sighs, briefly turning away from him. "I've got the lead of a lifetime for you, Stoppable. Do you want it or not?"

"Whatever it is — it's o-b-v a trap, KP."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "So? Never stopped us before, or are you just trying to be careful seeing how I've kicked your ass so many times now?"

Ron leers at her, getting out of his chair and standing across Kim's hologram. "Go away."

"No."

"Nice comeback, Big Daddy," Ron groans, turning away. Maybe he should go take a shower or something to make a point.

"Actually, it's Big "Big" Daddy."

Ron turns back to see Kim's arm crossed, a bemused smirk on her face. She definitely doesn't look healthy, but the smirk is… something. Vile as he is now, Kim scares him. Gives him nightmares even.

He bets he does the same thing to her.

"Kim. Stop."

Kim shakes her head. "This is what villains do, don't they? Shoot themselves in the foot by warning the hero of their evil, evil plans?"

Ron claps a hand to his neck. "If that is what they did, I think _I'd _be the one telling you of my plans, KP."

Kim's eyes widen.

Gah, he shouldn't have admitted that. But he has no one else to talk to anymore, not even Rufus.

"I tried to kill your parents, KP," Ron pinches the bridge of his nose. "_ Both _sets of your parents; I'm a shitty person."

Kim seems uncomfortable. "So we're both putting quarters in the swear jar now?"

Ron allows him something of a smile. "Yeah, things changed, KP. I changed, I do bad things every once in a while — "

"Would you give it a rest?!" Kim snaps; it's so sudden Ron has to look up to make sure she really just said that. She continues, "I'm not here for your baggage, you can't — you can't talk to me like this. It's not fair."

"Wh-wh-wha…" Ron stammers.

"You're trying to make me feel sympathy for you, and I can't," Kim growls. "I'm doing you a courtesy as your arch-foe; take it or leave it."

"Kim, you're not — " Ron nearly bites his tongue; they are arch-foes. Just because he's in a soft mood tonight doesn't invalidate all the damage he's done. " — you're Kim Possible and I'm Ron Stoppable, we're supposed to be a team. It's different with us."

Kim's expression gets so cold. "No, it's not. You've hurt me enough; you insulted me for cutting myself, you attacked my parents, you attacked my other parents, you violated my mind — "

Ron feels his powers starting to kick up; he still barely has any control over them.

" — you killed Shego," Kim says, biting her lip as she says it. "You're showing me empathy now, because, what? You had a bad day at work?" She rears her head back, like a snake. "Fuck. You."

Ron pales, just kinda stands there for a while, squeezing his knuckles. Tries to ignore the raw power splintering from his flesh, twirling around his arms in double helixes, his eyes filling up with blue. He feels so small, but he probably deserves it. But he spits back at her, "I'm not the one breaking the law I'm not… _a fucking mafia kingpin _."

Kim blinks and opens her mouth to say something else scathing but… she stops herself, shakes her head and looks at this spot above Ron's head, eyes scrolling from left to right. Ron narrows his eyes, what is she doing? Kim looks back to him and he straightens his posture.

"Two days from now, I guess one technically," Kim sighs, hands diving into her pockets. "June 6th, 11:00PM sharp. Me and a team of seven are hitting the Weapons' Library." Her eyes narrow. "You know the one."

Ron feels a twitch in his jaw. "You are going full-on bad guy."

Kim shrugs. "Sure. Now do me a solid and tell no one. I'll catch ya Friday night."

Before Ron can say anything else, the hologram gives out and Ron is alone. Terribly, horribly, agonizingly alone. He wants to scream, but he stifles it in and gets his phone out. Makes a call to Betty.

"I got an anonymous tip, yeah, yeah, don't ask me why they called me, I told them to fuck off," Ron growls, propping open one of his windows. He stretches his arm past the window and lets some of the power flying around him shoot out into the open night sky. Immediately, his body untenses. "But Friday night someone's hitting the Weapons' Library; I'd like to run Point."

* * *

"Okay, so that was fun but I do need to ask, Kimberly — you're not going blind, are you?"

"...blind, what are you — "

"The cue cards you dolt."

**The Bermuda Triangle: San Francisco, California** **  
June 4, 2008: 12:13AM**

Hank slaps a massive cue card against Kim's forehead, his eyes heavily lidded. "You didn't read the goddamned cue cards like we agreed on."

Kim sighs. "I read the last one."

"Yeah, wow," Hank needles his hips. "With the authenticity of Bruce Willis standing in front of a green screen for _Die Hard 7 _or whatever, well done."

Kim shakes her head, following Hank as he struts into the hallway. "I had to stand up for myself. He was being a massive douche."

Hank looks back and though his eyes flash dangerously, his smile is slight. "Yeah, you did. I applaud you for that, I was kind of worried for a second you were going to buy into his sympathy play, but nope. You definitely pissed him off _just _right." He holds for another second and looks away from her. "I'm proud of you."

Kim grins and passes by Hank, elbowing him in the sides as she struts along. It's weird with him being the father figure now that she's not a skinny little twerp but she appreciates the dynamic all the same.

"Now we need to just not die," she says.


	19. Smackdown in My Town

It all passes by so fast, this moment Kim has anticipated for so long. It's not fun, like it ought to be. She's with her best friends, but they're so serious.

Nong Man, Vinny, Mugsy. Rhino, Yori, Fukushima, Aviarius, all incognito. All stoic. All ready to die probably.

Kim's done a bad job as a leader. They look to her for wisdom, for confidence, and she has none. She's ready to die too. She doesn't know if it's worth it.

**Global Justice Weapons' Library: Washington DC** **  
June 6, 2008: 10:46PM**

She looks sharp at least. Black suit, pinstripes, fedora mounted on her knotted hair. She really feels like Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson for once. Though she kinda hates the revolvers at her breasts, and the tommy gun strapped to her side. But she needs to be prepared.

Kim has been talking for a while now; she catches onto it and slows her speech, nodding at her men. They are all on the same page, they know what gamble Kim is going to play. It's bizarre because she won't see any of them after this for some time. Even if she manages to snag the Weather Machine as planned, she needs to fly it out and certainly won't have time to land it anywhere safe with Global Justice hot on her tail. She doesn't even know if she'll have the comfort of radio for communication.

They break and move into the next room over to take position, but Yori grabs Kim by the black leather glove and pulls her back, hiding her behind one of the stacks of crates. Yori reaches up and scoops Kim's fedora off her and looks her hard in the eyes.

"It's not too late," Yori says.

Kim blinks. "I…" She bites her lip. "No, it is."

Yori shakes her head and pulls Kim in by the tie. "You're going to get yourself killed. What good does that do the world?"

Kim frowns. She doesn't want to answer that. It feels unfair for anyone to know how low Kim's self-esteem really goes.

"Kim, you… you have a gift," Yori says, trying again. "You don't have to be the villain."

It's all so surreal. Kim feels kinda blindsided, like, where did this come from? What can she even do? Why did Yori wait until _now _? Her mind moves much faster than she can ever hope to keep up with, but her own words are so clumsy and slow.

"This will make the world a better place," Kim tries, touching Yori's cheek but she can't feel her soft flesh behind the thick glove. Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson doesn't have Kim's hands after all, and he's probably going to end up on tv tonight if Kim has guesstimated Ron's actions correctly. She needs to look as boyish as possible.

"You're not going to try to stop me, are you?" Kim asks carefully. It's hard to keep the 'threat' of it out, but she can't help it. If Yori will try to stop her, Yori will need to be removed. That's how Big "Big" Daddy would handle it.

"No," Yori grunts, hand dropping to her side. "You're the only one who can save yourself Kim."

"_ Ooh, heavy, _" Nong Man chirps from the doorway.

Great, he's still here. Kim thought the coast was clear. He steps out of the shadows, wrapped up tighter than usual, a beanie holding most of his hair up. "Kids, we gotta take position ASAP or this op becomes FUBAR."

Kim can't take it anymore, she grabs Yori by the tie and drags the girl into her lips. Kim's never kissed Yori so hard before, and she wishes it could last longer. But she gets what she wants out of it; she senses Yori's desperation and reels back, looking back at her with wide eyes.

Kim's lips barely move, but the strength of her voice carries. "Nong Man, switch with Rhino. You're Yori's partner now."

Yori blinks back the tears that start coming in.

Nong Man purses his lips. "Bad strat, Kim. That sticks Aviarius with Rhino and — "

Kim continues as if uninterrupted, "When Ron throws up the barrier like we know he will…" She pictures it, the blue light that will trap Kim in a literal cage with Ron. "...Yori's going to try taking me out, or jumping in. I don't know which, but Rhino can't stop her from doing that. You can, Nong Man, and you will."

Yori grinds her teeth. Kim doesn't think she's ever seen as much contempt in her eyes before, not even when the girl had just walked out of Sensei possessing her. "Fuck you."

Kim understands, she knows that was wrong, but she also knows it's the right call. _The work _comes first, right?

"I'm sorry."

* * *

The Bermuda Triangle is surrounded quickly, but that doesn't stress Kim out. Kim knew that. It was part of the plan, in fact, it is the _crux _of her plan actually.

What worries Kim is the myriad of goons Ron put on sniper patrol. Sure, she knew Ron would bring an army, and yeah, his Strike Force is likely bigger than her old Rogue's Gallery… but damn, he's packin'.

Enough red dots appear on Kim's body that you could mistake her for having a late case of chickenpox. Her jaw hooks hard into her head when her hands go in the air. Some of the snipers are so visible, Kim can see them easily. Very classic of the poorly trained Global Justice fools to be so obvious about their positioning.

The Weapon's Library isn't very glamorous. It's a bunch of big crates hiding important things. More _Raiders of the Lost Ark _than the villain's weaponry gallery Hench hosts every year.

Ron steps out from behind a crate, stepping into a makeshift hall that's a straight shot for Kim. Hands dug deep into his gray trench-coat, his single eye narrows with glee. Grinding his teeth together, he speaks to the room, "Ah, Big "Big" Daddy, you look a lot better when I saw you last. You were, what — thirteen?"

Kim sighs, eyes crawling into the air, thumbs pressing against each other. She doesn't want to say anything, Ron's not worth the extra breath nowadays.

"I wouldn't be silent, _bro _," Ron purses his lips, slouching into the shadows and in-steps a cameraman. Kim flinches and Ron notices. He _always _notices. "Yeah, we're live on TV. How 'bout that? People of America, meet your number one enemy, Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson." He says the name like it's a joke; Kim knows where this is going and she's pissed at herself because…

Kim didn't count on this.

Kim didn't think he'd be so cruel.

Kim's stupid; she should have expected this from him.

Off her silence, Ron continues, "This fucker is trying to rig elections to take over the world, or some other contrived shit, and you know… we've actually _all known _about Big "Big" Daddy for a long time now. They just use a different name."

The cameraman hustles to get near Kim, and sets her face into profile. She really doesn't know what she can say or do here. This wasn't part of the plan. But it's sort of inevitable now, isn't it?

Kim absently wonders what moves Nong Man and Yori are taking right now to save her from this.

An invisible hand lined with Ron's power runs against Kim's face, gripping her harshly by the cheek and unceremoniously slaps her. Everything that is Big "Big" Daddy burns. The mustache, the scruff, the hair ties, the dark concealer… her coiled hair falls to her shoulders, bob cut curling against her cheeks and she almost screams out of sheer rage. Now the world knows.

Unless Ron's bluffing.

No. He's not bluffing. Ron's too stupid to bluff.

Kim can use that.

"Look at you, little Miss Nonviolent Direct Action," Ron huffs, hands on his hips. "For those not in the know, this is my ex-girlfriend Kim Possible."

Kim says nothing, she feels thousands if not millions of eyes on her right now, waiting for her next move.

"Kimmie," Ron groans, a phantasmal tendril drilling through her ear and into her mind, prying her thoughts loose. "Why don't you share with the audience what exactly you are planning to do?"

Kim grins, and nearly licks her lips. She knows what to do. She takes her first step, a long stride. The cameraman has to take three steps to catch up with her.

Idiot.

"I'm curious, Ron," Kim says loudly, honing in on that inner-activist tone she used when standing atop Gilead Industries. "Did you get a permit to film here?"

Ron furrows his brow.

"It just seems to me like Global Justice wouldn't want you filming here, but hey, no big," Kim laughs, hands still in the air. "For those uninformed, this is the Global Justice Weapons' Library. Everything is in boxes, so it's not so fun to look at, but there's enough weapons here to totally destroy the world."

Ron glowers, and takes the bait like the complete dumbass he is. "We need to keep this from the bad guys!"

"Oh?" Kim shrugs. "You better keep a better eye on your stuff then. Fact check this when we're off-air guys, but I'm just a small team of six. We don't have a lot of resources. No money, no superpowers, nothing. and we broke in_ easy. _By the end of tonight, I, Kim Possible, will have taken the Weather Machine."

Kim notices how the cameraman cranes his neck back to stare at Ron, like, _Should I shut this off? _

Ron simmers too much to notice the dude asking for his direction. "I think by the end of tonight you'll be dead."

Kim feigns a cringe. "Little harsh, don't you think?" She takes another step forward. All over, soldiers shuffle to fix their aim on her. This isn't so bad actually.

"I'm working to protect _you _from Global Justice," Kim drawls, speaking directly to the people watching now, all the while she gets closer and closer to Ron. His eye nearly bulges out of its socket from sheer rage. "Global Justice works with Jack Hench, oil mongerer. Global Justice covers up deaths, conditions soldiers… to the thirty five snipers with sights on me right now, check your necks. You might find a Moodulator."

Thirty five is a bluff, but it's enough to get three or four of the agents to fumble their aim while they do indeed check their necks. Only two red laser points return to Kim, but only after she makes three fast strides forward.

"_ What are you doing? _" Ron mouths.

"_ I'm using the platform you just gave me _," Kim mouths back, thumbs twitching together, dipping down to the nape of her neck. She wonders how many people are on Twitter right now picking up what Kim is throwing down and tweeting, " _She's gonna Die Hard him!" _

Too bad Ron is so focused on her that he hardly notices. Instead, he fidgets to find his own gun and pulls it on her, gritting his teeth. "This ends now!"

Kim smirks even wider. Shego would be jealous of her right now. Fuck, Shego _wishes _she were Kim.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Kim frowns. "Beyond the lawsuit it'd put on you for killing someone on live TV, maybe read the room a little. I'm right, Ron. Hell, I'm a crime lord, I admit that. But I don't hurt people, except for the ones who need to get taken down a peg."

Ron blinks.

Kim continues, "I'm trying to protect us from climate change and a draconian government. I'm _right _." She heaves in a deep breath and follows her heart. "Drop the gun and take my hand. You don't need to be this person anymore."

Ron snarls; her ploy failed but that's fine. He's distracted and it gives her permission. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out the detonator. She points it at Ron like a TV remote. He roars and slashes at the air, blue light materializing on the spot and forming into the Lotus Blade.

Kim smiles,

and presses the button.

First, a crate to the right explodes. Mega Pollinator, gone.

Kim says it out loud, cold voice cutting through the explosions. "That's a Mega Pollinator no one will ever have to worry about again."

One crate far off, loaded with various Hench Co. paraphernalia, goes up in flames.

"Hyperdeath Ray, definitely should have been destroyed instead of being kept in storage."

It becomes a chain. _Boom boom boom boom boom _.

"Earthquake Generator."

"Brain switch gizmo."

"The entire August catalog of Hench Co. wears."

The previously black and brown room goes red and orange. Ron glares at Kim with such animosity, but is thrown off when an explosion comes from almost directly behind him. His trenchcoat flares up and wavers. Kim rushes him, and knees him in the chest. He drops the Lotus Blade and she catches it.

Kim backs up and slashes at the air herself, focusing hard on Ron, and it feels like she's yanking his heart from his chest when she pulls free her own personal arsenal of Mystical Monkey Power. It flows through her chest and she screams, sending that power around them. It smacks the air and erupts into a shield, blocking another round of explosives. Nothing is left but them and the fire.

Kim grimaces and jumps forward, kicking Ron square in the chest. She wills the barrier to open its maw and lets Ron through. She closes it fast and hurls the Lotus Blade at the ground, knowing it's riskier to have it now that she's gone for her play. She knows she needs to escape, but turns on the cameraman.

"You alright?" Kim asks, dropping character. She actually doesn't notice the camera he dropped on the ground, the camera still filming all this. She moves towards the guy and pats him on the shoulder. "Get out of here, stay safe. My team knows to avoid you." She looks up and sees glowing blue embers brightening through the red.

"Sorry, gotta go."

…

Kim somersaults backwards, flipping higher and higher until she lands on a stack of unharmed crates. Squinting, she sees Ron's dark silhouette glide up through the flames, the orange shifting to blue at his passage. He's almost expressionless when he lazily raises his fist at her, concentrating a mass of power in his hand.

Kim smirks and presses another button on her kill switch. The crates around her pop open and out comes a slew of Syntho-Drones. Ron screams and switches his aim to them, blasting at the nearest one with a beam of blue light that cuts through the crates and even into the floor below. Kim feels her weight shift as the entire warehouse crumples into the crater Ron just smacked into the cement.

Ron moves fast, volleying wave after wave of Mystical Monkey Power at the Syntho-Drones, disintegrating them on the spot. Kim backs off, and reaches for her revolver. She aims for Ron's head; vision half-obscured by the eye patch in addition to the army of goons distracting him, Ron doesn't even notice her lining up the shot. But Kim can't pull the trigger.

It still feels wrong, and besides, she knows it won't kill him. So instead she snaps orders at the nearest Syntho-Drone. "Hit him straight on!" The thing complies and she feels sweat build on her forehead, watching the goon run straight down the middle, silhouetted by the raging fires ahead.

It leaps into the air to swipe at Ron and just when it eclipses his body, Kim fires and shoots out the head to her own Syntho-Goon. The goo sack bursts and a wave of burning green acid smacks Ron head-on. Ron predictably screams, and is overtaken by three Syntho-Drones which drag him out of the air and to the ground.

Kim smiles to herself and checks her six. It's impossible to tell where her people are, and how they are fairing. She checks her radio but all the interference here has killed the connection apparently, great.

Little pockets of blue light ignite in the air around Kim and flare as thin lasers intersect between the blue blips, creating a makeshift laser grid that nearly cleaves Kim's calves from her knees. She vaults ahead and more lights flash in. She somersaults past the next matrix of light, only for more blips to appear. They chase her to the edge of the crate tower and since the lasers don't dissipate, they just stay locked in place, Kim needs to push forward, so she leaps off the edge.

Lasers rip through the air in front of her. Kim weaves in and out, gliding — gliding? — around the lasers, throwing her body into corkscrews and twirls to avoid the pain. She falls towards the fire and focuses. She squeezes her fists and feels a _pop! _in her heart. Her eyes open wider, dry and full of blue light. She's synched up with Ron's power now — and she chances a pivot up. It works, her chest rises above her legs and she soars through the air, shooting up like a rocket. More lasers now, before it was four and now it's six at a time. Seven. Eight. Nine. They start to get wider, more difficult to pass by.

Kim scrunches in and flies through. The blue consumes her vision and all Kim can see is a little black window at the end of the tunnel. She flips and turns through. A laser strikes her forearm, another to her knee. Her cheek. Her chin. Burning, it's like lashes from a whip. Kim grimaces and perseveres, shooting out the tiny window at the end of the laser tunnel she didn't think she could reach and flies far, landing on another safe crate. Fire burns around her and she looks up at the blue lights.

The laser matrix shifts and moves around Kim into a wide donut shape, the matrix tightening into thick folds, but quickly the stabilized form shimmers and out comes lasers that shoot through the middle and to the other side. Kim closes her eyes this time and lets Ron's own power guide her. She pirouettes about and evades the lasers, she imagines her eyes staring at his until they blink. She's in control.

Laser after laser shoots at her and she dodges each one, and little by little the mass of blue power fades, each laser whittling away at the full projection. Eventually, it's gone and the room is back to just being on fire — y'know, normal.

Kim grins to herself and _crunch! _a boot crashes into her back, crumpling her and pushing her forward. A soft _whirrr! _and Ron materializes in front of Kim, half his face pink from the acid, and he punches right in the head. Kim stumbles back, blood shooting out from her mouth and she feels a hand grip her at the knees, fingers daring to rip through flesh and crush bone.

Kim can't focus, can't see. Ron lifts her in the air and throws her far, but before she falls too far away, something yanks on her back and drags her back to the crates. She falls flat on her back, writhing, trying to kick away at this invisible rope holding her but she can't find it. Ron drags her several yards and when she slides under him, his foot comes down and digs into her Adam's Apple, locking her in place. Tears spring to her eyes and she grabs his boot, trying to push it away, but Ron just leans in deeper to her neck.

"You think you're all that, Kim Possible..." Ron's voice crackles. He tilts his head and purses his lips. "...aw, what's da matter? You don't like it? I thought this is what you wanted: an arch-nemesis, yeah?"

Ron flips back and Kim is launched high into the air. Her body aches and burns and mid-flight, Ron reappears in front of her, and his hands slash at her. His fingers dig in like talons, tattering the suit and drawing heavy blood. He swings over himself, legs sweep kicking her out of the air, sending her tumbling against the crates again.

Her limbs smash against each other, blood coming from too many orifices to count. Kim growls and reaches for the revolver in her jacket and before Ron can properly react, she shoots him right in the neck.

Ron screeches, blood pouring out over his chest.

His eyes go dark and he opens his palm to her, a rush of power knocking Kim from her feet and knocking her something like fifty feet through the air. Connected with his power, Kim manages to find her balance and lands in an awfully painful split. But she's alive. Kim looks up at and takes a punch to the face, and then another. She squints past the pain and sees Ron fifty feet away miming uppercuts and left hooks at her.

Kim tries to swipe the invisible extensions of Ron's will away but it doesn't work. He cracks her jaw, breaks a tooth, punches her in the temple. Her head throbs and she feels him go for a killing move. Her hands go center and manage to grab something this time. Her knees buckle, hands clumsily clutching onto the invisible hand making to strangle her. She peels back the fingers, and manages to crack them against the knuckle.

The hand dissipates and Kim moves in, punching at the air itself. She feels her knuckle connect with Ron's flesh. She moves again, hitting him with the same ferocity he came at her with. Punch to the head, punch to the jaw, knee to the jaw, elbows to the cranium, kick to the stomach and —

— Kim kicks at his jaw and this time it connects for real. She manages to catch Ron's aura again and warps across the warehouse to hit him. He flops through the air and lands on his shoulder, writhing. He spits blood over the wood and gets up, eyes beady.

Blue light gathers around his fist and extends, the Lotus Blade in hand. Ron raises it high and it crackles like it's catching electricity and then he swings at Kim from so far away. The crackling light bursts and splinters, a whole thunderstorm coming from Ron's swing. It tears apart the wood they stand on and everything else it can. Ron screams and swings again, he misses by a lot.

But one of the wisps of electricity catches Kim by the breast and cleaves through her flesh, she screams hoarsely and stumbles back, falling off the tower, her back snapping when it cracks against the second level of crates below. She rolls off that and hits the floor, the fire that should be scalding her retreating as if afraid, only to be replaced by blue light that slowly crawls back towards her.

One of Kim's eyes won't open, so she looks up at Ron from below with just one; he's cackling like a stereotypical villain, except in this story he's apparently the hero. It pisses her off. Kim reaches into her jacket and pulls out her next _gotcha _— a tommy gun — and unleashes a hailfire of bullets on Ron. His body rocks with each shot, like a ragdoll and when she's out of ammo, he flops forwards with the same trajectory Kim had when she fell.

Difference is he's glowing as he does it. Mystical Monkey Power comin' in fast to heal his punctures. But his limp hand drops the Lotus Blade, so Kim can at least take that back. She sprints ten quick steps back, readying the blade as Ron slowly rises back up, his limbs moving with the sway of the healing magic, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

He's a monster, plain and simple. Kim needs to put him down.

"_ Kim _!" Yori screams through the havoc. Kim knows it's Yori shouting because she loves Yori. She looks past her shoulder and sees a very bloody Yori, dual wielding revolvers, charging at her through the fire. She looks like Hell, so Kim probably looks worse, and this is exactly why she positioned Yori where she did. And now it's a problem.

Kim looks back to Ron and sees his mouth curl into a smirk, his eye glows blue when it sees her. Kim can feel his muscles tighten in anticipation of changing focus to Yori and well, over Kim's dead body. She slashes at the air with the Lotus Blade and blue light cuts through the cement, curling into a sphere that traps Ron and Kim in together.

Yori hits the barrier from the outside, elbows banging against it. "Let me help you, you fucking idiot!"

Kim ignores Yori. She looks at Ron coldly. Kim made him turn into this; she can't let anyone else be affected by it anymore. She spins the Lotus Blade and it ignites the same kind of power it just had moments before. Nigh uncontrollable.

Kim lunges at Ron but the second she tries, the blade leaves her hand and materializes back in Ron's grip. He snickers and before she can get it, he slashes at her chest again. Kim falls back and Ron warps over to her, holding her up by the front of her shirt. He cackles softly and looks over to Yori, grinning.

"Now, you go…" he laughs.

Kim snarls and grabs his hand, digs her fingers into his and tries to ensnare his power again. She screams and re-directs the Mystical Monkey Barrier into protecting Yori now. Kim hacks a lung and spits in Ron's face, slumping in his grip.

Ron frowns and tosses Kim again, and this time she warps away and reappears on cold steel. Her back slams against something hard and she rolls down a gentle slope. Her bloody hands smack at the slope repeatedly, trying to find a grip but all she leaves is her crimson imprints. She rolls off the lip of the thing and hits the ground way below.

Kim cranes her neck high, and notices that it's the Weather Machine.

"I just wanted you to see this before I kill you," Ron muses, strutting in with a bounce in his step. "You gave everything up for — well, this thing, right?"

Kim nods, her mouth dry. She does want the Weather Machine.

Kim twists around, knees grinding against the cement, so she can look up at Ron. She sneers at him and unbuttons her suit, raising the blazer high alongside her armpit and Ron gasps.

Kim grins so wide it might snap her jaw; rigged to her blazer is a bomb. Ron knows the drill; if he lets Kim pull the drawstring any higher, it goes off, and Kim isn't about to give Ron any time to decide. She pulls the string.

The explosion is fierce, warm against her body, searing hot actually, the feelings change fast as the light expands, but before it gets too painful blue light encases the boom like a snowglobe.

"Kim?" Ron's voice shakes. "Wh-what are you — "

Kim grabs at Ron's aura again and _pushes _. The explosion shifts through the air and latches onto Ron before releasing. He screams as it goes off, and once again he drops the Lotus Blade. Kim rushes forward, limbs tripping against themselves from all the damage she's sustained, but she still, she manages to grab the Lotus Blade mid-flight.

Kim locks eyes with Ron and rises above him, plunging the Lotus Blade down on his chest. His hands fly up to swat her away but she doesn't relent and the sword goes clean through him. Kim doesn't stop there, and pushes hard, so hard that it guides Ron's body to the ground and cracks through the cement. Kim pushes until he's up to the hilt in it, until he's trapped against the ground, too weak to summon his own powers to save himself.

Hand mere inches from his skin, forehead close to his, Kim looks into his eyes. This is her best friend she's doing this to, her best friend that she just set-up and tricked. The man with all the power in the world, and the same man who loses every time, and not from a lack of effort.

Kim rises, staring Ron down with disgust. For a second, she thinks about killing him but she's not quite sure that's possible. At least with what she has access to.

"Kim," Ron writhes, but it does him no good. The blade won't budge and his back stays flat to the ground, only his hips able to wriggle away. "Why?" he gasps. "I just saved your life!"

Kim spares him a glance, and runs a hand through her hair. "You did that on instinct."

Ron gnashes his teeth. When did he become so ugly?

Probably sometime after she make ugly.

Kim moves to the Weather Machine and grabs onto the side, digging her fingers between the metal plates to drag herself up the colossal thing.

...

The higher Kim climbs, the more she feels the fire burn between her gnarled bones, igniting her heart and commanding her to crumple and vomit. She gasps as her body heaves against the metal in a cold sweat. She almost loses her grip and falls twenty feet back to the ground, but she's better than that. She's Kim Possible, she just defeated a God.

Kim kicks herself onto the roof she slid down previously, and hoists herself up. She stumbles like some kind of Frankensteinian monster with lumbering footsteps… and swings open the window and rolls into the cockpit.

Something's wrong, something's terribly wrong. Everything feels bleak. Her limbs are losing their functions and while it should feel nice to finally sit down and get to work, this feels like death.

First order of business is to blow out the ceiling and kickstart a rainstorm to put out all the fires, but her spine bends down farther than it's supposed to and her arms arc over her head as they tap away at the control panel.

Looking up, _always _looking up when feeling this dread… Kim's claws crawl across the panel as if she were a demon from Hell.

This doesn't make sense: Kim won. She beat Ron, she blew up the things she wanted blown up, and showed the world her true colors… how she isn't necessarily the true bad guy here. Maybe she possibly got outed as trans, maybe people will hate her even more than they do now, but the truth is out. That's okay.

Yori's hurt though, that's not okay.

Kim slouches against the back of the leather chair; from this high-up she can't see Ron pinned to the floor and Hell, that's easier. She needs to focus on _the work _. Steal the water from Nestle, return it back to the people. Raise awareness to the country that corporate America is gutting its people. How it relies on them for their cheap products and… and… oh god. Kim is going to vomit.

Her arms tense against the levers and switches; the Weather Machine lifts into the air, a little clunky, but definitely workable. But Kim's back is so horribly hunched. Teeth grinding against each other, throat squeezing, pupils dilating. There's a crashing from all around her as the Weather Machine jettisons through the ceiling, more and more wood panelling raining down. She smashes the buttons that get the storm going, water rains down and puts out the fire.

The blaze was so big that the resulting steam cloud covers the whole weapons' library in white. Perhaps Kim rigged too many explosives to go off. She hopes no one innocent got hurt.

Within seconds, the Weather Machine is careening through the air and all around her, dark stratus clouds twist around the machine and flash with lightning. The pluming gray encases her path and she's out of sight, blasting through the air as fast as humanly possible. She's lucky it's a cloudy night — she crafts a whole maze in the air so that if anyone were to give chase, it'd be so unlikely for them to find her.

Hah hah.

What a thrill, Doctor Drakken eat your heart out. Though she still feels so fucking cold inside, so empty. She thinks about Yori pounding at the barrier, begging for Kim to let her help her, and Kim said _no. _Indirectly at least.

Kim heaves, punching the metal around her, whole body shaking. It's not just the wounds that Ron gave her, it's everything. It's like she's eating herself from the inside out.

Kim punches the radio and spits out some message to Big Daddy Brotherson that she's on her way home. More orders for Hank to head out with clean-up to fetch the crew and ferry them back to safety. Kim would like to do it herself, but she's sort of expecting someone to come after her any moment now and sure enough — a blip on the radar coming at her. Yep. She really pissed Doctor Director off with this stunt.

So Kim is going to need to be alone with this hunk of junk until the heat ties down.

Kim sets the Weather Machine on autopilot, charting out an erratic course that'll be difficult to track. Kim rests her feet on the console and though she's shaking and bleeding, she's also hungry. She snaps off the satchel from her waist and opens it up to take out her tupperware. Yeah, she planted a stupid tofurky andwich onto her utility belt to give her _something _to look forward to.

Then her fingers fall on a knife and Kim's mind screams. Her fingerprints shift in place and won't stop moving.

Why did she bring a knife? Kim, you fucking idiot, why would you let youself… Right. She didn't actually make lunch yet; she just tossed the ingredients in a bag. She still needs to cut the tomato…

Kim very slowly pulls the knife out and marvels at how clean it is — how the fluorescents shine off the metal. She twirls it in her hands and lets it fall towards her wrist, the blunt edge pushing back the sleeve and cufflinks. Her eyes narrow because this is work. The tip of the knife rips through bandages, cutting a bit deeper than expected, and a small crimson bubble protrudes from the gap in the white. Bites her lip. Slices off the bandages, thankfully she's crying now so it's easy to avoid looking at the scars themselves…

Teeth chatter, body crumples inward and the knife comes so close to cutting again and — the blade clatters to the floor, rolling away with the sway of the ship. Kim punches the dashboard and grabs her hair so tightly she might just rip it from its roots.

There's a phone call at that moment. Hands fumble to grab her phone and she holds it in the air with her whole fist. It's Yori.

No no no…

Kim should answer, tell Yori she's okay, ask her if she is too... but a rising anger moves from her stomach to her chest and she screams something primal. Whips her arm and the phone flies across the room, smashing against the wall and shattering into hundreds of broken little pieces.

A lightness comes to her and for a second, it actually feels good to have destroyed something but immediately the old dread comes back and it becomes apparent that the destruction was a mere diversion.

She pounds the panel and cranes her neck up, even with the ugly hunch in her back. "I steal the water. Give it back to the people. Remind them that there's more of us than them. Inspire something beautiful by giving each individual strength… make them strong enough for them to move on and fight…

"...without me."

Kim boosts herself up and catches her slight reflection in the glass.

"I'm not crazy. I'd be crazy to not be doing this."


	20. The Awakening

The Nestle Heist is easy. Really isn't that hard. One man operation, Kim just has to position the Weather Machine over one of the tankards and suck it dry. Security catch on pretty early; it's pretty hard to miss a giant doomsday machine whipping up a whole torrent of water into the sky, but it doesn't really matter that they see. It might even be better that they do.

Security is ill-equipped after all, so all their eyes do is give Kim some press, not that she has time to focus on that, what — with being on the run for several days.

But the people certainly do know what she's doing. When Kim shows up in Osceola, Michigan, set up to go with the water return, the whole town is waiting for her.

**Twin Creek River: Osceola, Michigan** **  
June 10th: 8:37AM**

It's deathly silent. The townspeople have a perimeter around Rose Lake, they're bundled up in puffy jackets, and drink coffee from paper cups. Some have kids, some have protest signs, and Kim's skin prickles at the sight of it. The protest signs are… not to Kim's favor.

Rather than cut to the chase, Kim figures she ought to talk to them, so she climbs out onto the roof of the flying Weather Machine, loudspeaker in hand. She's still in the tattered suit from the botched operation at Global Justice, and generally, just looks nasty.

Immediately people scream and froth at Kim. They're too far below her and too disorganized for their shouts to be interpreted as anything but hooplah, so Kim begins her shpeel because — well — she didn't really expect this kinda kerfuffle. She figured people would just be on her side with this.

Also her brain is a little fried — she hasn't been able to sleep for days now, at least one eye open at all times and all that. She hasn't even been able to step outside of the weather machine until this very moment.

Really, she just wishes these people would shut the fuck up and let her _work. _

"Good morning everyone in Osceola, I'm Kim Possible — "

"_ Get the fuck out of here you tra-! _"

Oof, that's a slur, alright. Yikes.

Kim winces, lowers the loudspeaker, and glances down. Among all the faces is one plump man with patchy skin, heaving with unquestionable anger. Even from up high she can see his teeth grinding together. A chill runs up her spine; men just generally make her feel so uncomfortable. But she continues talking.

"I am here to return your water," Kim explains. "Nestle, as I'm sure you all know, pays your town a mere two hundred dollars a year for — "

"_ They give us jobs you fucking cunt! _"

Kim freezes again and looks down at the first yelling man but — no — she squints, it isn't _him _that's yelling. Her head twists behind her shoulders and she sees another upset man down below. It's okay… it's just two people… no need to go on the defense. Maybe everyone _else _thinks these guys are assholes...

"But Nestle is taking 130 million gallons of water a year," Kim explains, finding it hard to keep her tone upbeat and positive. She feels like she's reading off of something. She could improvise but in her current state of mind, she doesn't dare. "Which would place a value on one gallon of water at a ten millionth of just one of your pennies. Though they sell it at — "

"_ WE KNOW! _" a third man shrieks. " _WE FUCKING KNOW THIS SHIT ALREADY! _"

Kim's jaw drops. She thought that statistic would reign them in. Don't people like numbers? And money? There's no way these people already know the specifics to this Nestle trade, they're just… mad. Now this crowd is scaring her. People are shouting again.

Kim groans and massages the bridge of her nose, whispering to herself. "Why the fuck are they doing this right now…"

Kim is pretty sure she hears another one scream a slur at her, and she snaps, teeth bumping against the plastic of the cone. "If your whole arguments as to why I shouldn't give your water back stems from my gender identity — "

"It is!" someone down below crosses his arms. "We don't let - - - - - -and - - - - - - live in our town. We're Christian!"

Such assumptive language. _We _.

Kim briefly looks over the crowd. Several of the younger women and kids bow their heads at this, shoulders tensing. Even a few men shuffle in place with some discomfort. Her eyes crawl back to her target: an aging white man with unkempt facial hair and bloated flesh. His eyes are wide as if he knows he'll _win _— whatever that means...

"Well you're going to have to make some room," Kim snaps back. "There are more people in the LGBT community than you think. But that's not what we're talking about — " Ugh, she sounds like an asshole. She's right, but she needs to calm down if she wants this act to work.

"Yeah, okay, go on then!" someone else screams so loud their voice cuts out. He coughs. "Keep reading the damn info sheet we've all seen already!"

Kim tries to soften her voice but it's hard in the face of — this. "I'm trying to help you. Nestle has privatized water — _but water is a human right. _You — we — can't survive without it. If we keep — "

"_ Get the Hell — outta Oh-she-ell—a… _" someone tries to chant but it sounds pretty fucking stupid. Which of course means it fucking takes off as a full-on chant. Great.

Get the Hell out of Osceola. They say it like it's fucking brilliant. What the fuck.

Kim smirks despite herself and steamrolls the fuckers with her bomb ass speech. " — if we keep allowing corporations to take from us with the empty promises of jobs and economic stimulation — it's not hard to envision a future where we have to pay money to survive — "

_"I WANT TO KEEP MY JOB _!" someone else hollers, and that one really catches on. All over people say it together.

I want to keep my job. I want to keep my job. I want to keep my job.

It doesn't stop

" — for even bare essentials," Kim quakes. "People will die. We need to stand up. Ban bottled water. Ban single use plastic. Stop giving corporations the easy route because they have money. They don't care about you or me or — " she hesitates and dammit she shouldn't have hesitated, they can all see how weak she is on the inside now. " — your jobs?"

"_ FUCK. OFF. _"

"Oof," Kim whispers into her fist, grabbing the loud speaker again. "Like it or not — I am returning your water supply now. It was taken directly from the Nestle tankards. I have also mailed a check for two hundreds of my personal dollars to Nestle HQ in Vevey, Switzerland so their profits don't shoot down too much."

No one really gets her little joke and they all continue shouting. Was it really _that _unfunny or do they just hate her that much?

Her shoulders tense again and she wonders if she should focus on calming the crowd down, or if she should start emptying the water anyways. She stands there for some time, just trying to process everything around her and then there's a loud _BANG _.

It's a bullet — an actual godforsaken bullet — that soars through the air and nails Kim right in the shoulder. White hot pain sears through the entirety of her arm, every nerve end screaming and pulling, and her feet stumble back, tripping against a metal plate. She falls flat on her back, blazer riding up her back as she slides down the roof of the Weather Machine. She screams and smashes her hands against the metal until she gets a grip on something — anything.

When she does stop, she very slowly creaks back up, peaking over the lip of the vessel and someone is laughing — some weasley little fucker is laughing at her — oh, if she just had a gun she would — god Kim, snap out of it. Calm down.

Fuck, she's bleeding all over the place. This is a mess.

The crowd separates fast. Something's going down, someone planned this...

She wishes the reasonable people would stay and chastise these boneheads for already resorting to such violence but no, it's fair for them to run — someone just shot Kim Possible, who the world now knows as a mafia kingpin and supervillain, armed with a giant death machine.

"Kim Possible — you are under arrest," a familiar voice calls out. Deep but warm. She looks to her left and among the fastly dwindling mass way down below, she sees Dash DaMont in his civvies. Oh God, Global Justice is on it. If Kim squints, she can catch shadows of cruiser ships hiding behind the densely gathered trees. This is it. Dead to rights. There's no getting out of this.

It can't end like this. Kim has worked too fucking hard to get taken down like such an amateur.

Throughout the crowd below, familiar faces spring up; all of them Global Justice agents armed and ready to take her out.

Something, probably vomit, threatens to spray from her mouth, but Kim swallows it, stepping backwards.

"We have you completely surrounded," Dash cries out and Kim knows he means it. What was she thinking? She stole from Global Justice to attack the biggest food and beverage company in the world; this is a well publicized issue and _obviously _Global Justice knows where to plant themselves to stop her.

God fucking dammit. You fucking idiot. Not even Drakken would goof like this.

"You will land your vehicle and come out with your hands up!" Dash continues and it's at that moment, that one of the shadows from behind the forest rises high and wow, goddammit, the ship is, um, just as big — if not bigger — than her vessel.

Kim clutches her shoulder, flesh roaring from just the brush of her thumb. Not good. Not good.

There's a _pitter patter _of metal and a shiver up her spine. _Of course, _the perimeter is just a distraction. Kim whirls around, throwing her good hand into the air and finds herself strangling a Global Justice agent that sneaked onto the Weather Machine.

The grown man drops his gun, hands grabbing at hers to pry himself free, but he's not strong enough.

"Tell me you have a parachute or something," Kim growls as her knuckle whitens with the tension of the grip. He nods. "Good. I'm going to throw you over the edge. You ready?" He nods again. She grinds him against the metal roof and wedges a knee to his lower back. "Is it _just _Global Justice?"

"No. Local police too," he grumbles.

"Oh fucking whatever," Kim growls back and finally hurls him off the edge. She hears the _phloomp _! of his parachute. Kim hits an adrenaline high, sprinting up the tilted roof and re-entering the Weather Machine, dropping into the chair and gripping the controls. The back end of the ship lifts into the air as she swerves into the tightest U-turn imaginable, and then blasts off.

There's a rush of engines from behind her and she knows that Global Justice is tailing her. They are undoubtedly faster and it's a fool's game to make this into a simple chase; she can't win that, so she needs to fight. And thus — nonviolent direct action goes out the window too.

Kim grits her teeth and though she knows it's wrong — and these are the exact temptations she wanted to avoid from the onset — she flicks a few switches and voila — a thunderstorm rolls in behind her. That'll keep them off her tail for a bit.

The chase lasts a long time, hours possibly, hard to tell when you're having a constant panic attack. In that timespan, Kim just about pulls every trick in the book. She's hitting Global Justice with thunderstorms, hail storms, a couple water tornados courtesy of the Great Lakes, and after she passes over the Appalachians, she is pretty sure she lost them.

_CRASH. _

Kim lurches into the control panel, safety belt at least preventing her from getting more battered than she already is.

The entire ship rocks and Kim slumps against the control panel. It's definitely enemy fire. If it were engine failure, it'd be a lot worse… this is just a missile or something that drove into her. She flicks several switches but nothing. Back and forth she hits them and nothing. No weather control, no display monitors, no radio, no rear view, nothing. Great.

So Global Justice shot out one of her engines, so that it _looks _and _presents _like engine failure. Sure, why not make this as humiliating as possible? Well, now she just feels like an idiot.

The ship leans into a mean nose dive, and Kim has to throw herself with all her might to grab onto the control rod as everything shifts. Her feet scamper as the ship tilts, but her grip holds her somewhat in place. She wedges her elbow to the desk and pushes with all her might and fortunately — that's enough to make a difference and slowly the nose of the ship pulls up.

But that _doesn't _mean she's not losing air rapidly.

As things somewhat settle, she finally realizes where she is.

**Revere Beach: Wonderland, Massachusetts** **  
June 10th: 10:57AM**

Usually when airborne, you look down and the people look like ants. In this scenario, Kim looks down and is surprised at how big these people look to her as the Weather Machine narrowly avoids crashing into the yellow-brown sands of Revere Beach. Kim grits her teeth and tries to not get distracted by what just happened — Global Justice shot out her engine in an attempt to fake an engine failure on Kim's part — a little stunt that could land the great Kim Possible in prison for foolishly murdering hundreds...

She still _can _murder hundreds.

Focus Kim. You aren't the bad guy here.

The ship is so low to the ground it's a miracle she hasn't struck earth yet, and way off in the distance is some suburban pocket sandwiched between Wonderland and Saugus. God knows how many families are home right now. But what can Kim do? The ship isn't stopping anytime soon and she's positive the runway of sand isn't enough for her to slow down on.

Which is when she has a crazy idea, and she has about ten seconds for it to be fully realized. Probably less but who's counting? It completely banks on the hatch to the stolen water still working.

Oh hey — it works!

_Splish splash _down below and a scary big torrent of water cascades down from the Weather Machine's tankard and into the beach, smashing against the grains of sand, meshing them into mud, the sheer weight of the makeshift waterfall from the Weather Machine smashing the sand into a sinkhole that folds inwards so fast it looks like a glitch in reality to the average onlooker.

There's no time to coordinate the actual technique here — Kim's hand jams the control rod to the right with whiplash speed and crazy strength.

The ship changes course and bangs the tightest 270° U-ie possible, the ship tilting onto its right side, the nose pointing out at the ocean before angling back to the direction she slid in from. The weight of the ship throttles the nose down —

— right into the new mud sinkhole —

— and dark brown splatters across the glass window, and there's this loud thumping as the ship cleaves through the sinkhole, mud encasing the ship from all over. As things go topsy turvy, Kim hustles. Only one working arm — just like old times — and grabs the back of her chair. Her fingers threaten to snap in two from her full weight dangling off them, but she finds it within herself to pull herself up. Within a few agonizing seconds, she's standing on top of the side of the chair, the lights around her flickering, threatening her with total darkness.

Kim growls and leaps onto the control panel and she isn't quite sure how she does it — there isn't really time to think — but she uses that tired arm to pull herself up the control panel, her heels digging into whatever they can find. Eventually, she knocks open an escape hatch and nearly falls off-balance from the surge of mud falling through. But she holds herself still and while the heavy rain does bruise her and nearly suffocate her, _she can do anything _.

Another jump, and she's out, breathing fresh air like everyone else. Behind her, the last bits of metal fall away into the muck and she counts her blessings.

_Is that Kim Possible? _she thinks she hears from some nearby young people.

Kim shakes her head and tries getting up but falls over. Her shredded knee catches her and she stands at the edge of the sinkhole, back arched like some kind of gargoyle, her chest heaving with dying gasps. Blood spills from her shoulder and across the nasty black shirt that has already been dampened from sweat and body odor.

People keep saying things and she's pretty sure she hears someone barking orders but she doesn't care. Kim can't keep her eyes off the ocean. The waves roll in and out, leading off into a great beyond. She moves towards _that _.

Kim manages to get to her feet this time, trying as hard as she can not to fall over. There's some annoying sound behind her and before she knows it, her good arm lashes out and grabs some ol' so-and-so by the throat.

Kim carries the person with her for some time — she already knows it's not a Global Justice agent. They wouldn't dare show their face so immediately after pulling such a stunt. But what Kim does know is she's not going out as a fool. Not as the idiot who can't control their giant death machine and killed hundreds — no. Crisis averted. Fuck Betty Director.

Kim realizes she's dragging her feet so she kicks off those expensive shoes she bought. She flops over with her victim and looks them in the eye. Just some scared shitless beat cop who happened to be nearby. Even as she is dying, this cop can't break from Kim's iron grip. What a waste of space. Kim laughs at him.

Kim scans the crowd and sees people all over just staring — no one willing to raise a finger to help this poor sap. Worthless. Any of them can take Kim out — any of them — but no one cares. They all want to save their own hides.

Kim whips the cop at the ground, and keeps moving. Towards the water of course, where else. At some point, her blazer rolls off her shoulders. Usually she has to take some time wriggling out of it, but the shoulder pads are torn beyond belief so it's like dropping a towel. She keeps moving.

Kim almost wants to make some big damn speech — but when she does try to talk she finds herself gasping for air. Right, she is like actually dying. It's funny. She remembers her time in New Hampshire; she almost bled to death out there too… but that's when she actually cared… ha ha…

She's full-on laughing now. It's kind of scary. More cops are about to jump her but they freeze at the sight. Her whole body is rocking with laughter and her pants fall to her ankles. Did she do that? Yes, the belt is in her hands. Should she use it as a weapon? That would be funny. She whirls the belt around like it's some kind of ballo or flail and sneers at these stupid cops. They have guns. Why don't they just shoot her?

One cop darts in and she nails him on the head with the steel bit to the belt. She dashes past him and elbows him in the back, but flops over soon after with the pants still caught on her legs. She launches herself back in the air, cocking her head like a serpent and hisses — actually _hisses _at the next cop. She makes to attack him but the pants snag again. A furious blush hits her face as she tries to pull her legs free — she must look like some stupid child doing this dumb thing. She screams and rips them in two, whipping the belt at the closest cop, conking him out, a little splotch of blood on the back of his head.

Kim shrieks and freezes up. What is she doing?

The cops take advantage of this bizarre moment and tackle her into the sand. There's some cheering off in the distance. She feels a desperate hand go up to her breast and grab it tight — oh that little fucker, she springs forward and bites the cop's ear — hard. She feels the thin flap of skin purple between her pearly whites. She releases and pulls herself onto the man's back, thighs squeezing his head down and then — she plays his head like a drum. _Bim. Bam. Boom. _

The last cop just stares at her. Their gun is actually out. What a smartie.

Kim stumbles and finds something jammed in her teeth. She spits it out: it's a little piece of ear. Blood cascades from her mouth and she holds up her hand to the cop, forcing her eyes to roll into the back of her head, and she falls flat on her face, fighting hard not to give into instinct and stop herself with her knees.

It works. Playing possum actually _works. _Kim's face down and the woman cop is above her, dragging Kim's wrists into the air. Heh heh. There's a horrible _crack! _and Kim's legs whirl into the air and nail the cop in the chest. She falls back and drops her gun. Kim grabs said gun and holds it up to the cop who immediately cowers and throws her own hands in the air.

Loser.

Kim cracks a grin and mimes the act of shooting — but doesn't — obviously, she's no killer. Just a little — ah — off _kil _ter. Hahahaha. That's funny. But the gun does eventually come over the cop's head and that person is down and out too.

Kim looks at the pile of bodies and turns back to the sea. She takes a step forward but her legs jitter out of control, devoid of energy or strength, and this time she actually face plants into the sand. Not faking at all. Dirt pours into her mouth while she tries to draw breath. She spits the grains of sand out and her arm arches over her head and into the air, bending at the elbow and digging into the sand, her limbs taking on the form of a spider's.

It's not the blood loss that drains her this low — it's just her. She feels it in her mind. She's not human anymore. She's this — she's this demon risen from Hell. She torments. She hates.

Kim drags her body across the sand, all the while her big toes peel into her shredded socks and tug them off. More and more flesh is exposed, and the more animal she feels. It's not that she's weak, it's that an imaginary claw is pressing her to the ground and this is how she must walk.

Hehehe.

This is what her friends were trying to prevent her from doing, this is what they knew would happen if they left her alone. Kim imagines their glum faces turning away from her in shame, and she knows she needs to not think about them right now.

This, for once, makes sense.

Fingernails dig into sand and rather than wedge more grains under her fingernails — the specks crack against her skin and roll to the crease in each finger. She wants to leave her fingers here forever but she is dying. Kim grits her teeth and her bleeding arm flays out and does the same pull. Tendons pull and it seems illogical but she needs to do it. Again and again, almost like shovels.

A wave comes in and wraps around her fingers, dissipating below her palm. Ice cold, sparking feelings, Kim flutters her eyelashes and wedges her leg under herself, standing up tall, bare feet taking the place of her hands. She doesn't do this for show, she just does it because she needs to….she doesn't look as her hands rip through each button to the blouse, popping them into the sand. The black blouse rolls back against her shoulders and falls down to the mud. She steps deeper into the water.

Her bra comes off next, flung aside as if it were nothing. The rapids hit her knees and she raises a leg, briefly staring at the pink, hairless skin that rises from the murky blue. Her eyes narrow and her fingers loop around the panties. This isn't something she can imagine taking off with panache — she feels childish dragging them off. As they catch on her lifted heel, a wave nails her in the crotch and she doubles over. A quick flash of reality; is she actually doing this?

She blinks a few times and raises her hand; dried streams of blood all through her arm, almost like there was a painting mishap, but it is real. It's then that she notices the bandages. She wades in deeper as her hand twists around the first set of bandages. She rips them off and gasps with relief. Her skin breathes again, though it's white and lifeless. Moist from sweat and ugly from misery. She winds off the next set and dunks both hands under the water, briefly wincing as the salt water treads over her cuts, over everything.

This is her. Not Global Justice Freelance Agent Possible. Not Kimberly Possible. Not Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson. Not even Kim Possible. None of those people would do this — would reveal themselves like this. She has nothing. Every inch of her feels the cold bite of the air and quivers from the impact of the sea. This is her choice; she wants this. Nothing before this was really her decision.

Betty Director tried blackmailing Agent Possible with that stupid _Must train Ron Stoppable. _clause.

Shego kissed Kimberly into literal submission, manipulating her along this wretched game.

Doctor Drakken played mind games with her until she broke and became a baddie, Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson that is.

It feels wrong for her to smile at this, now shoulder deep in water, but so many choices she didn't get to make….so many victim complexes to overcome….but this. She actually _wants _this. Bare and free from every horrible thing that stands in her way. It's empowering. She wants to face all the people that hurt her like she is now — and kill them. She wants their blood to spray onto her flesh, she wants to scare the daylights out of them as the life wriggles out of them, eyes going dark.

She laughs, cackles really. It's like the end to Kate Chopin's _The Awakening _. So romantic, this repressed woman suddenly stripping herself of clothing and swimming out to the horizon. Swimming was all Edna Pontellier had after her lover left her… romantic? No — that's sick. It's sad and pathetic, this isn't a finale it's —

Kim can't stop laughing. A wave pops against her face and buries her in blue before she resurfaces, gasping as sea water tumbles into her open mouth. It hurts so much, this pressure building in her throat. The water rises and she has to swim now.

She can't swim though; her bleeding arm doesn't want to move anymore and when she does try to swim with one arm, she falls under and can't stop the water from coming up her nose. But she keeps moving blindly forward. Little lights pop in her eyes like fuzzies on a screen, and she thinks of everything she is leaving behind.

Her plans to protect the planet and take over the world? Someone else more stable can take those reigns. She's incapable and inept.

Her friends? Yori, Bonnie, Wade, Mugsy, Vinny, Rhino, Nong Man, Hank, Big Daddy... She loves them, but they don't. No one likes her; how could anyone love her back? This vanishing act of hers is a blip on their radar….

There are books she wants to read but she knows it doesn't matter if she ever reads them; she'll always be rotten.

There are cats she's leaving behind, but someone else can love them better.

Nothing she has is of any purpose. This is the ultimate solution. No longer does anyone at group need to hear Kim ramble, no longer does her crew need to worry if she'll finally start taking care of herself or not, and finally she can sleep.

It's hard to think straight with so much sea water pouring into her mouth; she feels dirty inside.

There's a low _boom _and the water rises to fantastical heights, surging towards her. She doesn't want to wince in its face but she does; she winces like a fucking coward as it strikes her from under. Everything flips and goes topsy turvy and she briefly catches sight of how fucking far out she managed to swim.

The shore is a small strip of yellow and it's mostly sky that she sees as she rises high into the air, possibly for the last time.

There's a clap and searing pain all over her body as the wave carelessly throws her completely underwater.

Kim's head slams the ocean floor and her neck cracks up, her body spinning aimlessly and when her eyes open and burn, she doesn't know where she is or which direction is back home. She tries to fight the current that drags her away but she's not strong enough; she doesn't know if it's a good current or a bad current.

It's in this moment when she can't breathe, when she can't speak or do anything but flow along that she knows that she chose this. She chose every step along the way — no one made her do anything. She may be a victim but she needn't die there. She can grow. It just takes time.

Kim thinks about riptide and how her parents warned her not to go too far out. Her head briefly resurfaces — she's not sure how she makes it back up — and she gasps for air but the moment her lips part, more sea water tumbles in and she spins about again. It hurts so much.

Being under, it's dark and warm, somehow calm, but the ocean strangles her. She can't breathe, she can't do anything. She's helpless. Thoughts slip away and everything is missing. She's just there, trapped far below the surface, desperate to escape but she can't….

The current rolls her body against the sands, her limbs crack against their bends and flay into her body, and just as she thinks she has a chance at making it out, the wave slams her back the other way. She kicks against the ground when she thinks she has a chance but nothing comes of it. Her head pops back into the air, but her eyes don't make it past the white lip of a wave and she's back under again.

There's this flash of black, like_ real _black. It's not accompanied by any blinking, she just loses her sight for a second, and for another second. Her heart is beating so fast, her tug chest throbs and these horrible tendrils arch all throughout her, tugging at every scrap of her that's trying to be human.

This is what death is like. It's agonizing yet silent. There's no one to scream to, to talk to, there's nothing left. It doesn't matter, and though she wants to surrender and let it once and for all take her away….she tries.

Not even for anyone in particular, but because she can. She can fight this. She wanted to die and now she doesn't. Kim wants to live.

If she does die, no one will know there was regret. They will think of how secure the great Kim Possible was when she swam out there. But fuck that. There is regret. There is redemption. This is her story so she fights. She'd be damned if she didn't —

She resurfaces.

It's a cold breeze that chills her to the bone and all over, goosebumps noticeably erupt on her hairless skin. She felt like an adult stripping off and running out — so big and tall and defiant — and now she knows that she's still a child and there are people staring at her. Not just Bostonians but Global Justice agents and news crews. Everyone on the planet is looking at her, waiting for what's next in the freak show.

She's trans too, everyone can see that now. Kim runs her bleeding hands into the sand, digs deep and feels Earth. Her chest rises high when she tries to take in her next breath. She cracks her head back and dimly looks up at the sky, her wet body drying fast under the blinding sun. Kim trans, Kim _evil. _

Kim wants to take relief here, but it still feels like she's down there, still writhing and drowning.

Kim's knees scrunch in and she takes a step forward. The worthless flesh thuds against the sand and she hears how rapidly she's breathing. It's high pitched wheezes, sounds she's never made before. Her eyes must be so wide.

It's like an alternate reality now. As if she was supposed to die but now she's just walking dumbly around. For all anyone knows, she just went for a swim.

Except for the wheezing. And the blanched white skin. And the blue lips. Okay. She looks pretty bad. She takes a few steps and falls to her knees. Her head hurts. She's hungry. She wants to drink some water.

She screams. Her voice is deep and crackly, her eyes are red. The vortex of sound tears through her, snagging on every single mangled inniard within her along the way. Everything sears and roars and tears — tears blubber from her, she can't control her body. She's a sobbing mess, everything is limp, it's over now. There are cameras getting all of this, filming the great defeat of Big "Big" Daddy, scourge of the underworld.

Global Justice agents crowd around her from all sides. Someone tugs her to her feet and she just sort of goes along with it. Imagine the headlines. Teen hero turned crime lord strips naked and fails to kill herself. It's what all these horrible third parties wanted for her. Now she can rest at least.

Someone starts barking orders and all of a sudden the men flanking her part ways. They forget to finish handcuffing her, so the metal just dangles off one wrist. She raises the shining chains into the air expectantly but someone grabs her hand, and forces it back down to her side. The hand slaps cold flesh and she suddenly feels so embarrassed and small. Did she really need to strip? Did she really need to pick the worst possible way to go out?

Someone throws a trench-coat over her shoulders and while Kim feels grateful to them, she knows the damage is done. Two ice cold hands gently push against her shoulders and Kim's knees give out from under her again. She's so weak. She falls into the sand and fingers massage the back of her head, guiding her head to a breast.

Kim wants the figure to be her mother but she's not; it's Doctor Director. Her chin is perched on Kim's head, her eye fixed on the sea Kim crawled back from.

"Why did you come back?" Doctor Director rasps.

It's so chilling to be under her grip, but Kim doesn't really have a choice here does she?

"What are you going to do with me?" Kim asks. It's not really a question, more along a statement she feels she's supposed to throw out there.

Betty shrugs. Kim shrugs too.

Who cares.


	21. Blast from the Past

"Princess..."

"…"

"Ugh, c'mon. Kimmie..."

"…"

"Oy vey, c'mon, wake the fuck up!"

**Holding Cell: ?, Massachusetts?** **  
June ?, 2008: ?:? ?M**

Kim jolts awake, rising up from what was apparently a really long nap, like where is she? It's a white room, probably a hospital or something, not her first time waking up in a hospital. But… her heart stops in her chest when she locks eyes with Shego.

Kim doesn't even know what to think. Is she dead? She thinks fast. It flashes in her mind's eye — she tried to kill herself and failed. So she's not dead. Which means Shego...

"W-w-what, n-no, you're not…" Kim's teeth chatters, she scooches deeper into her wafer-thin bed and towards the cement wall behind her. She feels so small and fragile, so drained and so white. "H-h-how are you — "

"Amp down," Shego drawl, crossing her arms. "I can't be the first person to ever fake you out like that, your life is too dramatic. Heh, anyways, no time to explain, I'm bailing you out."

Kim blinks. "Bail out from… is this a Global Justice Holding Cell?"

Shego nods, and gives Kim some space.

She's in a… holding cell in Global Justice, probably their base out in Boston. She's alive, Shego's alive and… no, Shego's _dead. _Kim must be dreaming, or hallucinating. But it looks just like her!

"Fuck," Kim clutches her head, sliding off the bed and onto her feet. She's dressed up in some kind of prison garb, just a dull blue button-down with matching pants. It's hard to remember everything, she wonders if the Global Justice goons had to drug her up or something. None of the pieces are coming together right now.

She hates being near her. She feels so weak, probably from starvation, from nearly drowning, from being pummeled by Ron, _fuck. _From being shot too, someone shot her, right? It's all fuzzy. Kim always felt this way, last year at least. She always felt frail and sick, and Shego ate it up and took advantage of her. Now Kim is weak again and Shego is just there, cackling, as if nothing ever changed.

God.

Kim sideyes Shego, checking her out. She's in her black suit and green tie as usual, just kinda raggedy, especially around her joints. Like someone smashed her into pieces, but left her hanging by threads of flash.

Kim is thankful she stripped her clothes off like an absolute lunatic, because otherwise she would be dressed exactly like Shego since her Big "Big" Daddy outfit was — well, _Shego-lite _as people said behind her back. And right now, Kim wants nothing to do with Shego.

But it's hard not to stare. A deep wrinkle is directly underneath Shego's eyepatch, because well, Ron cut clean through Shego's eye and now… it definitely makes Shego look a lot older. Is it even possible for a body to sustain what Ron did to her? It can't be. Kim still doesn't believe it.

"You going to gawk at me all day or are you going to come with me?" Shego blurts out.

Kim frowns. This isn't good at all; she doesn't want to be in prison for sure, but Shego?! God, Shego, how the fuck is she… Kim throws herself back against the bed. Her head hurts so much right now and this woman is standing over her with a half-lidded eye, so impatient.

Kim's kind of scared Shego will hit her if she says no, so she just doesn't move. She folds her knees up to her chest and hides her head in the gap. It's coming back now, she feels it rush up her legs. She… fought Ron, hand to hand, and won. She stole the Weather Machine, almost slashed her wrists wide open, and… fucked up… fucked up her action in Michigan.

People didn't want her there.

Someone shot her and it fucking hurt. Kim touches her shoulder, she feels the bandages wrapped tightly around the wound. That's definitely real, she's _alive _. She bites her lip. What kind of sick fuck would do that? A-and… what else did they… Global Justice blew out her engine and Kim nearly killed hundreds.

Kim tried to kill herself. She _almost _succeeded.

Shego gently touches Kim's shoulder and immediately Kim's whole body crumples in.

"Go away," Kim spits.

"No," Shego pinches down hard on Kim's bone and drags her to her knees, forcing the girl to look her in the eye. Shego frowns, cheekbones sharp as ever. "You want to take over the world, don't you?"

Kim sniffs. "Not the way you think someone would."

"They all say that," Shego snaps, yanking her hand away from Kim like she is poison. She sneers, flipping her hand over and over again, as if she had just plunged it through mud or something equally disgusting. Then she reaches into her jacket and it's the handle to a revolver that pushes back the lapel to Shego's suit. Lazily, she dangles the gun before Kim's eyes and after some moments of hesitation, Kim snatches it away and bows it into her lap.

"I can handle myself, oh-bee-vee," Shego says, curling her hands to her hips. "You down?"

Kim sighs and thinks it over. She thinks of consequences, thinks about the lifeline she's being thrown, thinks of Shego dying.

Shego 'died' for _the work _.

Kim has sacrificed _everything _for the work, why should she stop giving up things now?

Kim nods. Illusion or not, she's not lying down anymore. She's all in. She has to be.

"Yeah, let's do it."

* * *

Minutes later, things go haywire but that's to be expected. Someone pulls a gun on Kim and Kim of course pulls one on him. He fires and misses, she slams the butt of her gun against the guy's helmet and shatters it. She punches through what's left of it and nails the dude in the face. Little pieces of plastic run into her fist, nearly drawing blood. Meanwhile, heat smacks Kim's back and she notices traces of neon green crawling along the walls ahead of her.

Kim frowns and does her best, but she's not keeping up. This is too much. She hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drank, hasn't even been given a second to cry yet. Global Justice agents charge her and manage to push her back. She does take a few shots, but none of them are for the kill, she can't bring herself to do _that _.

Kim's back curls against Shego's, her shoulders only reaching Shego's shoulder blades. She feels the heat come off Shego's hands, hears the screams of falling agents, and doesn't hesitate when Shego spins on her heel. Kim pivots with Shego's swing and throws her legs into the air, her sweeping kick tumbling two agents at the same time. Kim lands, and has to fight off a smile.

She likes fighting with Shego. Shego can keep up with Kim, and she knows how to have fun in combat too. Kim misses that, everything has been survival lately. Here she can relax and get stylish with it.

A guy comes at the two of them with an electric baton. Shego grabs it mid-air, and her plasma burns the thing into pieces. Shego grabs the guy by a crack in his armor plating and whirls him across the room, hurling a plasma bolt that knocks him out of his twenty foot journey.

Shego continues to throw bolt after bolt, but eventually she gets angry and her eyes switch into full green and the bolts become _waves _that sweep through the whole hall, knocking out every agent in sight. From that point forward, it's not hard for Kim and Shego to break out of Global Justice, and it's even easier for them to snag a getaway car and peace the fuck out.

Running away with Shego was definitely a fantasy of Kim's for a long time, back when she didn't realize that the problem, that the abuse, was in fact Shego. It's bittersweet sitting besides her.

* * *

"So… what's the scheme, Kimmie?" Shego asks after fifteen minutes of silence on the road.

Kim's eyes flutter and she leans away from the open window and spares a glance at Shego; this is still so weird. She wants to question how Shego survived, but Shego looks like shit, which is exactly how someone who got wailed on by Ron would look.

"I'm not telling you," Kim says and leans back into the palm of her hand, watching the scenery roll by.

Shego scoffs, "I _am _part of the Bermuda Triangle, like it or not, kiddo, and I'll probs be working with you again."

"Working _under _me," Kim growls. "I appreciate you saving me and all, but my time with you really fucked me up." She has to say this. It's what she's rehearsed when she's imagined this pretend scenario alone in her bedroom. It doesn't sound as tough as it did back then though.

Shego chuckles.

"You laugh?" Kim questions.

Shego nods, teeth splitting her face in an ugly smirk. "We're in Boston, you work in — what? San Francisco? If you think we're okay to lay low until we get there, sure." She turns on Kim, cheeks crinkling with that smile of hers. "Or let's be serious — you're wanted by Global Justice and they won't stop until they find you, Princess. So maybe you should _get to work. _"

Kim sighs, fingers drumming her elbows. "My plan is more of a slow burn."

"Wow, how _nuanced _of you," Shego cackles. "Get ready Tumblr, Kimmie's got the perfect plan for you! _Ha! _So what? You get shot and killed, or thrown into prison for life, you won't get to do your smarty pants plan."

Kim bites her lip; she didn't think of that. Last time she clashed with Global Justice, they sort of hand waved it and let her go but this time is probably a lot more serious. Kim sinks deeper into the chair, thinking. "My plan won't work if we rush it."

"Tsch," Shego sneers. "Loser."

Kim's heartbeat quickens. It's been so long since, well, _Shego _, she kinda forgot how to deal with someone constantly putting you down and hey, maybe that's a sign of how much progress Kim has made, but…

"My plan requires people to_ like _me," Kim explains. "That's why I was doing the grassroots thing."

"Tsch, people _hate _grassroots—"

"Rich people do, yeah, but normal people give a shit about it," Kim says, and smiles when she sees Shego blush lime green since she knows that Kim is actually _right. _Look who's the smart one now. Weird power dynamic swap but Kim will roll with it. "That's why I gave that big speech on TV before fighting Ron."

"Got it," Shego says nervously. "Yeah, some people came out of that thinking you were the good guy..."

Kim rolls back her shoulders and winds her arms over the headrest behind her, pulling her chest into the air. She wants to ask Shego about more deets, what people are saying, but she'd rather find out for herself. Shego might lie to her.

Kim continues, "Yeah, and if people like me and my politics, it'll be easier for me to go from nonviolent direct action to… well, _the work _."

Shego raises an eyebrow. "Clarify that, please."

"Killing, murder," Kim explains with lazy hand gestures. "Shit like that."

"Wow, Princess ain't out to play," Shego whistles. "You ready for all that?"

Kim shakes her head but still says, "Yes, I have to be."

"Hm," Shego muses. "But how do you do all that when Agent _Stoppable _is out there gunning for you?

Kim frowns, her heartbeat quickening. She needs to ask; she really hopes Shego knows.

"How many days has it been since Wonderland?" Kim says.

Shego shrugs. "A few."

Kim nods. "Is Ron…"

"Hospital, Ronald's in the hospital," Shego says. "He'll be up again before you know it, though."

Kim blinks. _Ronald? _Since when does Shego…

Shego notices Kim's staring. "What?"

"Um, just, you called him _Ronald _…"

"O-oh. Did I?"

Kim nods.

"Well," Shego feigns a drawl, lime green coming into her cheeks. "If a guy kills you like he did, generally, you start to respect them more. Or something. I don't know."

"Mm," Kim sighs. That still doesn't feel right. She kinda expects Shego to come in with some kind of quip, but she doesn't. She's just so… _off _, hard to put a finger on _why _though. So Kim continues, "I don't have a plan for dealing with Ron. I've managed to beat him… enough times now to trust I can handle it, but I don't think I _can _kill him. Even if I wanted to."

This seems to reel Shego's attention back in. "Y'know, with his whacked out powers, I'd venture a guess that all you need to kill him is just the _want _for it. You're always so wiffly waffly about it."

Kim shrugs. She didn't feel wiffly waffly at the weapon's library. Or maybe she was did. Really, she just needed to stick him somewhere where he couldn't hurt anyone, and stabbing him through the chest made sense at the time. But… she did want to kill him too. Sort of.

"Well I don't want to."

_"I don't want to _," Shego mimes, bobbing her head from side to side. "And what about everyone else?"

Kim hesitates. There's an answer to that, she'd rather just not tell Shego. For obvious reasons.

An awkward silence passes by and Shego groans like a teenager. "Can you just spill the beans already? It's not like I'm going to commandeer your shit — I'm your Number Two—"

"Number Three," Kim sighs, taking a guess on what mountains will be moved to let Shego back in to the fold. "Nong Man is my Number Two."

Shego blinks. "That creep?"

"He's very charming," Kim drawls.

"Yeah, uh huh," Shego mutters. "But just tell me — "

"Give me your phone," Kim holds out her hand without looking. She feels an expensive smartphone rub against her palm and she twirls it so it's in front of her, her thumb absently punching in the coordinates. "Remember when Aviarius used that rod to steal your powers?"

"Oh shit, Kimmie," Shego smiles. "That's good, that's _really _good."

"I know," Kim says coldly. "I need to get jacked up if I want to do some of this — and if you're right… _Number Three _, I'm thinking that I need to act _now _."

Kim checks Shego's expression. The woman looks so hungry. Kim isn't hungry though. She shakes her head.

"Yeah, duh," Shego scoffs. "_ At least _get the powers now, ain't no harm in doing that, right?"

This is all so weird. It's like Shego is _leading _Kim, but then again, Shego probably doesn't want Kim to wait until it's too late… or… there is a possibility that...

"What about the Attitudinator?" Shego suddenly suggests. "You still got that hunk of junk, right?"

Shego is asking like she _really _wants to know about the Attitudinator, super weird, and also, how does she know about that? She 'died' before all the shit with Drakken.

Kim wonders if she should even bring Drakken up, or if Shego already knows.

"Y-yeah," Kim yields, and lets the Drakken thing pass by them. "Why do you ask?"

Shego shrugs. "You're too nice. Don't you need to be _evil _to lose your soul like that?"

"Um, well, I kinda need to hang onto my soul for a little while," Kim answers fast. "Otherwise the people won't like me and will look away when I get gnarly."

Shego titters, fingers drumming the wheel. "So you're putting a pin on truly going _dark?" _

Kim gulps, but doesn't say anything to that and pivots back to looking out the window. She doesn't want to talk about this anymore, she just needs to _do it _and never look back.

* * *

Hours upon hours later, Kim and Shego are in Vermont, pushing their way through a laboratory sealed away in the middle of a thick forest. The lab itself is messy and covered in gook; it doesn't seem to be lived-in.

"Maybe he's hiding out, right now," Kim explains. "It'd be pretty normal for the whole gang to go under right after… all of this happened."

Shego rolls her eye, unimpressed and moves along, eye focused ahead of her. She's _really _interested in Kim's plans after all.

Kim furrows her brow and stays focused, letting Shego take the lead even though she's never been here before.

"What have you been doing these past few months?" Kim's voice echoes.

"Huh?" Shego shoots back.

"What have you been doing these past few months?" Kim repeats, a little louder this time.

"Oh, you know, merc gigs and the like," Shego says without turning.

"I feel like we would have heard of you," Kim sighs. "Nong Man would have noticed at least."

"Uh, okay? Super weird, Kimmie. So I guess, according to you, I wasn't doing merc gigs."

"Yeah, I don't think you were," Kim shrugs, letting Shego get a solid twenty foot lead on her before shifting over to the side of the room. "And then, while you were doing these so called merc gigs, you just decided to come over and save me when I get captured?"

"Duh, I care about you."

That lie hurts, a lot. Kim feels it in her chest. Shego never cared about Kim, Shego strung Kim along like it was some kind of game. Even when Shego let herself get vanquished by Ron, it was just to sway Kim over to the dark side club. Always so indirect, always so _mean. _

Kim smashes her hand into a metal console besides her and immediately red lights start flashing all over the lair. Shego stops in place.

"_ Self-destruct in ten seconds." _

Shego cackles to herself, "Ho ho ho, Princess. Fuckin' really?" She turns around, as smarmy and relaxed as ever.

"Yeah," Kim grunts, pulling a gun from inside the console too. She trains that on Shego's face. "I don't know why every villain sets these to one minute. Gives the hero too much wiggle room."

Shego smirks, the lines under her eyes practically vibrating in her barely concealed rage. "This isn't Aviarius' labs; it's a burner. What's the gun for?"

Kim knocks the gun high; it's there in case Shego tries to shut Kim up before she says her piece. Kim opens her mouth to monologue, to tell Shego how weak she really is, how she had to be a parasite and hurt other people, how Kim feels sorry for her, but nothing comes to her lips. She just can't do it, she can't say it. Because… well...

The gun falls to her knee, Kim sweats all over. The self-destruct is about to go off and — none of those thoughts matter because...

"You're not Shego."

_Boom _.

The console erupts and so does everything else, exploding in a righteous blaze of orange and yellow, consuming everything it can — except for Kim and Shego. The explosion doesn't hurt Kim, doesn't even give warmth to Kim's body. It just shifts around her like it's nothing. Kim wades her hand through the hot colors and feels nothing.

Kim knew this, expected this, since she woke up. Yet she let herself get strung along, hoping this was real, that this was good faith. But of course it wasn't, it wasn't even Shego to begin with. Kim tumbles on her back from exhaustion, as all the fatigue from everything that's happening hits her at once. She's so hungry that she feels hollow inside, like the slightest touch could snap her.

The explosion passes and Kim lays on the rubble of the fake lair she bought a few weeks ago in case something like this happened. Rubbing her cheek, Kim looks up at Shego whose hands are in her pants pockets, her smile ugly and her eye still half-lidded.

"This isn't real," Kim says.

"Duh," 'Shego' cackles.

She nods and lifts one lazy hand from her pants and slaps it across her face. The ghostly white skin changes as the hand glides over, darkening into tanned skin, the raven hair going brunette, and when the hand leaves, it's a beetle black eye staring back at Kim.

"Dr. Director," Kim rasps.

Betty nods. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm impressed at your nerve, didn't know until now that you had one." She raises her second hand and snaps her fingers.

* * *

Kim's eyes — her real eyes — pop open and she sees that she's face to face with Betty, mere inches away, but chained to some kind of stretcher propped up against the wall. Kim writhes against her bonds, as she's expected to do, and slouches into some heavy breathing when it does her no good. "You drugged me."

"Yes," Betty's face twists into a smirk.

Kim looks around her, it's just her and Betty in this scary white room. "I'm not telling you shit."

"_ Obviously _, kiddo. That was my best chance," Betty grins again.

"Obviously," Kim echoes, trying to pull the chains again, but it does her no good. "You might as well just kill me."

"Yeah, you'd like that," Betty smiles gleefully, reaching into her trench-coat. "I picked up on that. You're very stubborn, I expected you to be a pushover after the stunt you just pulled at the beach." Her gloved hand procures an electric razor and it starts buzzing loudly. She takes one stride forward, crossing the gap between her and Kim and rams the razor against the back of Kim's head.

Kim struggles but again — it does her no good. Quickly, her shoulder-length hair tumbles off her scalp andfalls to the floor. Kim grimaces and turns her head away, but Betty is stronger and slaps her hand against Kim's cheek, holding her in place.

Kim notes how the stubble on her face is sharp against her own skin. "How long has it been?"

"A week," Betty says.

Kim sighs, neck tickling as red hairs roll off it. "What do the people know?"

"That you were arrested," Betty steps back and narrows her eye, taking in Kim's new style and moves back in to cut even more hair off. "All I need to do is go in front of a camera every now and then and tell the world that we're taking care of you."

Kim sighs. She wonders if any of the criminals she's bagged have ever been treated like this. It's hard to focus, what with just slipping out of a drug-induced sleep and everything. "Why are you cutting my hair?"

Betty shrugs and steps back, setting the razor aside. She pulls out a switch, clicks a button and the binds that hold Kim back release, and she unceremoniously falls to the floor, body crumpling in on itself. Her legs shake like harp strings, struggling to hold her up. She grabs onto the stretcher and looks to Betty with cracked red eyes. "What are you doing?"

Betty smiles and reaches into her jacket again, this time pulling out a revolver. She tosses it into the air and instinctively, Kim catches it. But she doesn't bother aiming it at Betty's head quite yet, though Betty is making herself an easy target.

Kim repeats herself, "_ What are you doing? _"

Betty smiles coyly. "You're not going to do it."

Kim lets the revolver thump against her hip. "No." She bites her lip. She doesn't want to admit it out loud, but she can't go back. Not after what she just tried to pull on 'Shego', not after how she failed. It's over.

Kim feels like a bomb about to go off. The explosion at the beach was a dud, but the next time her fuse shortens all the way, she'll die for real this time. And there's nowhere she can run to so she can prevent that. Kim is sure Betty knows this, and that's why she gave her the stupid gun she can't even use. It would just be random violence, Kim is trapped no matter what.

Betty folds her hands against her elbows while she shakes her head. "You didn't seem to have an issue with killing me earlier."

Right. Because Betty was _playing _Shego and… yeah, this woman is not her friend. Kim can't trust her.

When Kim continues to do nothing, Betty lazily slips a hand off her elbow and into the air. "Toss it back. If they see you with that thing, I can't protect you."

Kim hesitates, but throws it back. Betty catches it, stuffs it away, and hits another button. The door out slides open, revealing a white hallway. Without a parting glance, Betty steps out and Kim follows. Agents strut by, ignoring her and moving on to whatever they need to do next. But it's not like, a willful ignorance, the agents just seem so… tired. Doesn't surprise Kim, knowing what she knows about the conditioning being done to them.

"Don't stare, it's rude," Betty tosses over her shoulder.

Kim frowns and carefully pries her eyes away. She knew some of the agents were reconditioned and everything, but still. It's scary to see how real it is.

"Milady," Betty grins, opening another door, bowing back to let Kim step in first. Kim rolls her eyes and goes in, only for it to be a room just like the last one. Just this one has a hospital bed instead of a stretcher, and a closet. Rest of it is white. Everything in Global Justice is white on the interior, she doesn't remember it being like that a year ago.

"Closet," Betty rasps, scrambling ahead of Kim and diving onto the bed before she can, wedging her elbow against the crinkling sheet of paper draped over the wafer-thin mattress.

Kim goes into the closet and finds a dirty set of boy's clothes waiting for her. Grungy jeans, flannel, and a beat-up brown jacket. Kim catches her reflection and she sees how much she looks like a boy like this, with the hair cropped up to her peak of her neck and the scruff all over her face. She side eyes Betty.

"Pocket," Betty points at the jacket.

Kim runs her hand into it, her other one slipping off the stupid hospital gown she's been set up in. She finds a wallet and rolls it out, flapping it across her palm and immediately finds an ID.

In it is a highly accurate photo of what Kim looks like right now, as well as a new name. _\- - - - - - - - - - - -. _The first name sears her mind, she doesn't want to acknowledge it. She won't think of it, won't remember it, won't do anything with it. She has a feeling she needs to expect people to call her, well, _\- - - - - - _, but she won't let that happen to her. She won't _become _that.

Kim claps the wallet shut. "What the fuck is — "

"Your new name," Betty drawls. "What people will call you, etc. Do you really think I can let _Kim Possible _out into the wild? After what _she _did?"

Kim blinks. "I'm not — "

"Get used to it, darling," Betty laughs. "_ \- - - - - - _isn't even that bad, we could be a lot crueler."

"Fuck. You."

Betty blinks. "My, how clever." She crosses her arms. "Here's the deal — you're not well."

"Duh," Kim sighs as she pulls the pants up past her waist.

"You can't go back to your old life, I most certainly don't want to take you in and make my people deal with your shit, so…" Betty nods towards the get-up she left Kim. "...I'm giving you a chance."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You're going to a mental hospital," Betty says coldly. "With… some supervision, of course."

Kim blinks. "Why?"

Betty just kind of smiles.

"You clearly have some kind of ulterior motive," Kim continues, getting closer.

"Does it matter?"

"You're going to use me," Kim challenges. "When I get better."

Betty is so ugly when she smiles. She raises her pinky to her lips, like it's tea time. "Hoo hoo, I'll never tell." She leaps off the bed and gestures for Kim to follow her. "Come. I'll show you out and then you do… whatever."

* * *

It's anticlimactic, when Betty walks away. She just slouches off and leaves, no parting words or anything. Kim was expecting some kind of big speech, it's what Shego would do. But Kim's realizing fast that Betty plays the manipulation game way better than Shego ever did.

Kim already knows what the deal is. Any more explaining and she's going to chicken out of Betty's scheme.

So Kim just stands there in the parking lot to what she now knows is Global Justice Boston. All she's got is an empty backpack and a smartphone with a prepaid plan.

Kim could go anywhere; no one's chasing her.

No one wants her either, she bets. After what she just did.

Kim thinks about Yori, about how much Yori probably hates Kim for letting her self-loathing get so out of control that she actually tried to… Kim thinks about Big Daddy and Hank too, about what they would want her to do.

Rhino and Mugsy and Vinny and Nong Man, they would want Kim to feel better. Hell, they might even try to _save _her. Like break into Global Justice Boston to spring her, she hopes they don't.

At least no one can find her like this, with this new identity and everything.

Kim checks the bus schedule. She doesn't trust Betty, she knows that eventually Betty will do something and it'll be at a time when it's really hard for Kim to say "No." But this feels right; it's what she's been avoiding for months now.

A mental hospital would suck, but she needs to get healthy. She needs to take her self-preservation, fuck, her life really, seriously.

If Kim wanted to, she could probably try to call Yori, Rhino, Hank, Nong Man, any of them. She could even text one of them. Just to let them know she's alive.

But fuck, if she does that… they'll find her. They'll rescue her. She doesn't want that, she doesn't want them to be near her again. She wants to disappear honestly, put her world domination plans on hold. Maybe forever.

Kim is toxic. She'll poison everyone she loves. Better to just pull off the band-aid and move on.

Two hours later, she walks into the lobby to the mental hospital. The receptionist looks up from her desk, eyes wide as they go up and down Kim. It makes Kim feel uneasy.

"Oh, you're - - - - - -?" the receptionist raises an eyebrow.

Kim frowns, shoulders going slack. That name. - - - - - -. It makes her head throb.

This sucks. Someone called ahead for her, she guesses. "I'm trans. Please don't call me that."

"Oh, sorry, your mother didn't mention…"

"Yeah, I figured," Kim sighs. She looks up warily, extending a hand to the receptionist. Weird gesture at a mental hospital probably. "Call me Miriam."

"That's a pretty name," the receptionist says sweetly and Kim has to pretend to glow at that. "Can we call you Mim?"

Kim hesitates. M_ im _. K _im _. Woops. "No, Miriam's fine!" she says very quickly.

"Ah okay. Hold on. I'm going to call Nurse DaMont, he's already been assigned to you, just hold tight for a minute and we'll get you settled in."

...DaMont? Well, Betty did say there'd be _some _supervision. Lots of legwork to get Kim situated here, something's going on. But Kim would rather not worry about it for now, she'd rather focus on healing and getting healthy again. Take advantage of this until it gets bad.

So Kim nods and takes a seat. Walking around, she feels like a squashed up demon from Hell, bleeding and writhing on the ground. She_ did _actually lose everything she ever cared about in one fell swoop — but there's something really calming to sitting here. It's just her now, little ol' Miriam, with no friends or family.

Yes, she's losing her mind and needs to get healthy again — but she has time now. It's okay for her to be a hot mess.

It's amazing. That she can just sit here. And no one notices who she really is. She smiles to herself, she's going to make the most of this...

She's going to make the most of this.

"_ Mister - - - - - -" _

Kim blinks and looks up and sure enough: it's Dash DaMont in a Nurse's outfit. She can see his skin crawl at the sight of her, which sends her own skin crawling. It makes her want to cut again — stop the waves of skin where they shift — hold them still.

"I'm Dash DaMont, I'll be one of the three nurses taking care of you. You can call me Dash if you'd like."

Kim's throat closes up and her voice gets hoarse. "Hi Dash. Um. I'm not a boy. My name's Miriam."

Dash doesn't make eye contact. Everything in him shifts and it's like he doesn't even know her. "You're not mentally stable enough to decide on that, are you? - - - - - -, I will be supervising you one-to-one the first few days because you are on suicide watch — "

Kim feels small standing before him, like she's nothing to him. She feels like a stupid, confused child, and this is probably how she'll feel the whole time she's hear. Stupid and weak.

" — that's not necessary — "

"It is. You tried to kill yourself last night, right?" Dash says, his eyes faded as if he's reading off faraway cue cards. "Additionally, you'll need to remove anything and everything you can use to hurt yourself. So let's start with those shoelaces."

Kim laughs but Dash doesn't. The receptionist shoots her a disappointed look and Kim's mouth folds shut. She looks down and unknots the double-knotted laces and holds them in her hand, meekly passing them over to Dash.

"Good. Now come with me."


	22. This Isn't a Nightmare

The shower in Kim's dormitory ends up being incredibly unpleasant. She had been looking forward to her first wash in weeks but it turns out to be ultra dehumanizing. Turns out the whole showering process is not only mandatory daily, but also requires supervision when you're on suicide watch. And just for fun — every gruesome part of the damn thing is engineered to prevent you from killing yourself.

Which reminds Kim that she still kind of sort of wants to die.

For instance, the shower head isn't arched over her or anything, it's implanted directly into the wall like a drain.

— "So you don't hang yourself off of it," Dash explains. —

The water pressure is so weak it merely dribbles down, cascading down ceramic tiles. The shower is already a tight squeeze, but for her to get any water on her, she has to press her body against the walls. Which is exhausting, and makes her all the more aware of her gross 'boy' body. She rubs up against the wall, awkwardly twisting about to get wet, and not only does it make her feel foolish in front of Nurse DaMont — she has to keep backing up to hit the button on the wall because the shower shuts itself off every thirty seconds.

— "So you don't try to drown yourself." —

But Kim can't even process trying to drown herself in this because the water is also frigid. Surprise surprise. The first minute or so she feels like an idiot; she can't figure out how to get warm water out of this stupid thing and then she realizes — this is the only setting.

She looks over to Nurse DaMont and before he can explain why the water has to be ice cold, she smirks and quips, "So I don't burn myself to death."

Nurse DaMont flashes her a thumbs up and laughs.

Kim laughs too. It's not actually funny. This is actually the most miserable thing that's ever happened to her. So she laughs, and then stops because the subzero water hits her body again and she can't help but spastically twitch at its touch.

* * *

It hurts to look in the mirror. She wants to smash the glass and use the shards to….you know — but Nurse DaMont tells her that it's shatterproof. Not that she would have considered actually following through on harming herself like that — but of course _now _she is.

When Kim looks into the mirror, she sees someone she doesn't recognize anymore. She's tried so hard for so long to transition and now she's off her meds, far away from her support system. She's crumbling. Usually when she disassociates like this, she tries to find her eyes. They always tell her the story.

But today her eyes are wide and blank. Today she is numb; she feels nothing. Just a sad spirit encased in flesh.

Her hair sticks to her shoulders and neck, held down by all the water, and it makes the ugly black hairs on her upper lip and cheeks so much more obvious and painful. She asks for a razor but is refused one because she's on suicide watch. Apparently you need to earn 'points' around here to gain access to these things they call 'sharps.' Whatever.

* * *

It's strange, but she does get to have a moment to count her blessings. She doesn't have the means at the moment, but when she gets the chance she will look like a damn cute girl. She rides her shorts up high past her stomach, pulling the black socks to her knees. Her shirt is a little baggy, but she tucks it in as much as possible so that it looks like a blouse. With a cardigan and a bowtie wrapped in her hair like ribbon, it's the best she's got.

She smiles in the mirror because she knows she'll bounce back from this.

Nurse DaMont laughs. She turns her head up and frowns. "What?"

He shakes his head as if he can't believe what he's seeing. "So you want to take a picture with your Mom in front of the school bus too?"

* * *

Kim's new room mate ends up being the first person to talk to her in the cafeteria. She almost knocks her tray over in excitement and holds out her arm for a handshake. The boy sniffs as her cufflinks ride up past the wrist scars.

"So you hate yourself because you're a faggot or something?" he keeps his hands in his hoodie pockets.

She tries not to let it get to her, although there's a clear tremor in her voice. "Um — a-actually — haha — " she cringes because her laugh sounds super forced even to her. " — I'm a girl."

"Um," this boy, Stephen, grunts. "So why do you have a mustache?"

She gives up on the hand shake and her fingers twiddle together nervously. "Because um — I'm trans."

The boy blinks dimly because he doesn't get it, and she doesn't really want to educate him because being trans isn't something she volunteered to do, and she doesn't even really understand it most of the time.

"Well I don't want to live with a sissy," Stephen growls and walks away before Kim can retort. She's sure he doesn't mean that.

And she's not a sissy.

Ugh. It's okay. She takes a few deep breaths. Stephen doesn't have to be her friend. There are others.

A quiet girl from a table over briefly looks away from her friends. "I think your hair is really pretty. I also never thought of using a bowtie like that. It's really cute."

She looks to be a little older than Kim — like twenty. Something about that is comforting.

Kim later learns the girl's name. It's Corey.

* * *

Group therapy is cool. Apparently it's every morning. Kim likes it because it reminds her of when she did group in Foster City. She starts crying at some point because she realizes that all those girls must think that she did actually kill herself and that the government is just covering it up— and then when she thinks it over slowly — she _did _kill herself.

She isn't Kim Possible anymore.

Can she be Kim Possible again?

Maybe.

Everyone is talking about goals. Kim isn't sure what to say — well she is sure — but saying "I want to be Kim Possible again!" isn't exactly something that people would understand. Kim liked group because she could be so raw and vivid. She could recount her crazy missions and not worry about what anyone had to say. But this? What can she say? _Oh, yeah, I used to be a crime lord and I got arrested during one of my schemes _. Is she supposed to come up with a fake backstory? Create some new traumas for her to dig into with these random suicidal people?

When all eyes fall on Kim she cringes and shakes. She spaced out and doesn't have anything. The group leader reassures her that this is a safe place and it's okay. She bites her lips and wipes her eyes and thinks of all the people she lost and if they could — what would they want her to do?

Get better?

Fuck that.

How do you get better? One step at a time. Okay.

Think.

Kim looks up at everyone and smirks despite the glistening cheeks. "My name is Miriam. I'm nineteen and I tried to kill myself last night. I use she/her pronouns. My goal is to get enough points so Nurse DaMont lets me use a razor."

Like a thespian in a particularly juicy role, Kim works the room by tracing the lip fuzz dramatically and everyone laughs along with her.

* * *

Psychiatry's not fun. Mostly because it's Doctor Bortel. Who has actually worked for Kim. Back in the here-under-protest-long-as-you-kiss-me-Shego days. She distinctly recalls knocking Bortel out and throwing him into a dark tunnel. Woops.

Kim drums her knees nervously as Bortel settles behind his desk. "Ground rules," Bortel looks up from a binder. "I don't want to talk about the elephant in the room here."

"What? That Betty paid you better than we did?" Kim mutters and then decides — fuck that. Fuck Doctor Cyrus Bortel and his mercenary ass. "It's pretty obvious. Anyways, let's talk about me. I want get back on my HRT — "

Bortel smirks. "You aren't even trying to be _\- - - - - - _."

God, there's that name again. Kim growls and sinks into the chair. "I didn't ask for this."

Bortel looks at her for a long time and finally blinks. "I mean, what? Do you want to go as _Kim Possible _again? You'll get locked up, be grateful for..."

Kim just makes a face, and Bortel changes course. "I didn't know this was the plan, okay?"

"So then help me!"

It's the first time Kim has really yelled in days, and her voice comes out all scratchy and deep. She sounds like a boy mad at a video game or something. The scream _pings! _about the room like an echo and she slouches back in the chair. She wants to complain that this isn't fair but she knows it's a pratfall. "I want to be me at least."

Bortel shifts a little. "I can't. My hands are tied."

Kim's shoulders fall a little and she slouches. Bortel tries to talk to her about her feelings but she doesn't want to tell him shit, so she stays tight lipped. It's not doing anyone any good obviously. She wants to kill herself, yes. She looks at sharp things and imagines them stabbing her. She looks at normal things and imagines sharp things protruding from the floor and stabbing her. She's sick. But to start crying in front of Bortel? Ugh.

She cries anyways. It's been such a long day already. He prescribes her some pretty basic antidepressants and sends her back out to Nurse DaMont who of course — is waiting outside the door.

* * *

Kim's bed sucks.

She only gets one pillow and the bed sheet is too thin. It's such an illusion of comfort that she'd rather sleep on the floor.

It's also very hard to sleep with a man sitting at the foot of your bed, staring at you. DaMont punches out and Berman punches in. But they might as well be the same guy.

"I said you need to keep your hands above the covers!" Nurse Berman shouts, pulling the blanket down to her waist. "I need to make sure you're not hurting yourself!"

Kim's eyes water but she doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. She can't let them see through, so she kicks the blanket to the floor and curls up tighter.

* * *

It's a lucid dream. Pretty cool.

It starts off with Kim talking to Shego about something. It's a little unclear and she doesn't remember all of it.

Kim looks like Kim which kind of hurts — she dreams in third person, very cinematic, which makes sense given her life — so when she does get control of the dream she changes things up. She deteriorates herself until she looks like this ragged Kim trapped in a mental hospital under a fake name.

After Kim does that, she can actually focus, and she realizes that Shego is floating. Her skull is half-exposed, mostly at the jaw, and at the temple. Green embers burn around her head which droops down as if the neck is broken. Hair is ragged and the voice is throatier than usual.

Kim steps closer to the phantasm. "I tried to kill myself."

Whatever the foreboding thought is that Shego's decreeing — she stops. Her eyes shift from where Kim's old eyeline was and way down to her new one. "_ And what? They did some kind of whacked out secret society shit to keep you of jail? _"

"Don't joke," Kim growls. "They're… grooming me. She wants me to be a soldier, I think."

Shego's eye narrows. "_ I'm sorry, Princess. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wanted you to be strong. _"

Kim hugs herself tight. "You shouldn't have let Ron — " — there's a weird shift in energy — " — do this to you. It wasn't worth it. _I'm _not worth it."

The jaw flickers as the eye get a little softer than Shego ever offered. "Kim?"

Shego's voice hikes up in pitch and it just sounds so soft. So young. The pupils drift back up to where Kim's old eyeline was. "Kim, where are you? I just heard your voice, I don't — " Everything within Kim quakes, this is too soon. He can't see her like this. She bites her lip and tries to remember it's just a dream.

There's a choking sound and Ron gasps, "What's going on?"

Kim opens her mouth and steps forward. "I'm right here, Ron."

Nothing. The corpse just hangs there in the air, forever burning.

Kim chokes back some tears too. "Ron, I'm so fucking sorry."

Something erupts up the corpse, twisting its form in the air, and the head hunches down, jaw opening wide. "Shit, I saw the news and… I know we have our differences, and I know… I know I've said some shitty things to you, I guess I feel responsible."

_He _feels responsible?

"No," Kim says softly. But it's not loud enough for Ron to hear. Something's in the way. She summons all the strength she has left in her. "I did this. This is my problem, not yours, don't — "

Someone wakes Kim up to draw some blood. Something about making sure her new meds won't fuck her up. It takes her a moment to see through the inkly blob standing over to her to realize it's just one of the nurses.

Honestly, this nurse in particular is at least kind of nice about waking her up like this so often, and she's thankful to be back in reality.

Because she doesn't ever want to lucid dream again.

* * *

Being in a mental hospital can't be that bad. It's not like they rolled her up into a straitjacket and dropped her in a padded room. She can move around and talk to people. It doesn't have to be so doom and gloom. Be positive.

It's scary but she takes a seat next to that girl "Corey" who complimented her hair the other day. She wishes she could wait until she's off suicide watch to make the move, but she goes for it anyways because no time like the present — or maybe — never be normal? Heheh.

"Thanks for complimenting my hair a few days ago," Kim says in a small voice. "No one's been nice to me in a while."

Corey looks up from her boring breakfast; she seems starved for affection. "Can you compliment me then?"

"Uh." Blink. Blink. Cringe. "Yes?"

Corey laughs. Somehow that social interaction turns into a friendship.

* * *

Exercise class isn't as easy as she wants it to be. Due to her malnourished limbs (Kim hasn't been eating again), she has a lot to make up for. But she works hard, harder than anyone else. She has to. She has to get better.

Everytime her chest doesn't dip low enough, she cracks those arms back into right angles and draws a deep breath, shuts her eyes, and imagines taking out legions of goons at a time. She can still do this.

A lot of the people in her class can't keep up. They are depressed (obviously) and stayed inside a lot, still stay in a lot, so even one push up for them is a whole thing. Meaning that the instructor has to keep the speed of the class slow, and work with each person to make them feel better. So he winds up not keeping an eye on Kim.

Kim goes faster and faster. Her head is pounding and her elbows are shaking. She should stop. Anyone can see that. But no. She pushes off the floor and lets go. Her hands rush in and clap the spot underneath her chest as she swings back down and boom — she catches herself.

A few more of these and it gets noisy. Everyone can hear her clapping. Heads start turning and she tries not to acknowledge it; everyone should be at her pace. She's anorexic after all. But this is when someone yells at her to slow down.

Kim doesn't stop; stop telling me to slow down, she thinks. She'd say it but she really can't look up right now. She needs to focus.

She gasps. Something surges up her throat and she catches it. She wants to swallow it away but it's too late and all the color drains from her face as she vomits all over the floor.

* * *

"_ \- - - - - - _, what exactly have you been eating?" Nurse DaMont asks.

Kim sits across him on her bed, fingers nervously digging into her knees. She doesn't want to look at him; this is a man she used to be able to school in combat and now all of a sudden she can't do anything right. If it was anyone but him, she would tell the truth. But she can't. Not in the face of the enemy.

Nurse DaMont heaves a deep sigh and slaps the clipboard to his thighs. "_ Miriam _, talk to me."

Miriam.

She can't help but smile. She hates herself for getting emotional at her second fake name. But her eyes shine a little and she looks up. "I'm vegan."

She notices a little rise in the corner of his mouth. "How long?" he asks.

"Um." Time is hard for her. What with never seeing the outside world. "I tried to kill a deer when Shego left me alone in the forest. It went really poorly and that was kind of my moment. Um. When was that?"

Dash looks at her for a while to make sure she's serious about asking. "Christmas last year. It's April so — " His skin crawls again. "I'm vegan too — I know it's important to you but we currently don't have the resources here to keep you well nutritioned."

Kim shrugs. "Okay?"

He furrows his brow. "Kim — ah shit…. Sorry."

Kim doesn't flinch, she just looks at him hard. Being called Kim hurts too. She'd prefer _hey you _for now if she had any say in it.

After a while, he starts talking again. "At least go vegetarian for now. Get some eggs in you. That sugary cereal they have isn't doing you any favors, I'm serious."

"Tofu and veggie broth is a damn good substitute though. Cheap too." Kim vaguely remembers living off bare minimums in her apartment with Dom in Foster City. "Oh and the nooch. Obviously."

Nurse DaMont remembers that flaky, cheesy but not actually cheesy goodness. "Obviously. Listen, I want you to do well here. So let's figure out a diet. If you can do it, Hell, I'll give you enough points to use a razor."

This catches her attention. It's been really bad lately. Whenever she cries, which is frequent, she gets all snotty. It's nasty that it's her normal, but she just wipes it on her sleeve and with each passing day, the gross black stubble catches on the fabric and —

"Yes," she says very quickly. "I'll do anything for that."

* * *

A greasy sausage patty waits for her on the styrofoam plate, surrounded by a circle of bland eggs. The potatoes are a good touch at least, although some of them feel like they weren't boiled long enough.

She brings the plastic knife and fork down to the patty and breaks off the tiniest piece she can snag. She needs to not overthink this. She needs to — her mouth caves around the brown bitlet and the teeth chew it up.

She remembers the deer in New Hampshire. How she knocked it to the ground and killed it. She didn't even get to eat it because she was bleeding so much. She shot open the noble creature's stomach and slept inside of its guts.

Never again, she said.

She feels the grease slick down her throat, emptying into her stomach which violently churns at the touch. Ugh.

Kim's grateful that after one week in Hell they finally take her off suicide watch. Meaning now the nurses check in on her every ten minutes to make sure she's okay. Which actually makes her feel more stressed out than when Team Impossible was shadowing her every move, but whatever. The ten minute gap gives her enough time to go to the bathroom without supervision.

She shuts the stall door behind her and kneels in front of the toilet. Her face screws up in concentration because she knows this is wrong. She knows this is why they had her on suicide watch to begin with. It's a betrayal of the little trust they finally gave her.

She shuts her eyes. No one can make her do anything, and she is not letting meat and dairy strengthen her. She doesn't need it.

She plunges her fingers into her mouth and ends up a shaking, shivering, pale mess again but no one seems to notice since she is always like that.

* * *

Kim is babbling her way through group therapy, trying to make up some kind of tangible goal. She thought this would be an easy exercise but as time passes on, it gets harder. Her goals become little tiny normal things that shouldn't be hard for anyone.

Her voice cracks while she's talking. It keeps happening, without the blockers, her voice is shifting back towards going through normal 'boy' puberty.

Kim struggles to hold it together and in the firmest voice she can possess says, "I want to get through today without crying."

* * *

Kim has been trying to keep herself as busy as possible since arriving here but with her new 'diet,' she knows it's probably a good idea to skip exercise class. So she does what most patients do at the hospital for that hour: wander around aimlessly until you end up in the TV room and pretend to watch TV.

Most people stare at the wall. Kim wants to stare at the wall too but the TV manages to distract her. It's about Ron.

She starts crying again so it's hard to focus. She feels so stupid that she can't follow along.

She ends up having to ask an adult sitting near her what happened.

The adult looks at her. She looks pretty grim. "Apparently, that Stopstop kid — "

Ha, _Stopstop _. How did Nong Man's nickname for Ron catch on like that?

" — he's leaving that Global Justice thing, he tried suing them but lost."

Kim blinks. Ron… did what? "Wh-why?"

Kim sort of knows why. She wonders if that actually was Ron in her dream, if he does actually feel bad. Or if he's just pissed that Global Justice let Kim live after everything she's done. The adult keeps chattering away. Apparently Kim Possible's suicide was a media sensation and everyone in the mental hospital was talking about it when it went down three weeks ago.

Three weeks?

It's only been three weeks? Oh God.

Ron needs help, Kim thinks. He's on a bad path and for once, he's free from some of his manipulators. Sensei is still out there to do his damage on the boy but… if Kim could just contact him. Maybe she could help him. Maybe.

Her heart starts pounding and she's sweating. Thinking about Ron is scary, thinking about — anything to do with her old life is scary.

Kim tries to think of the many ways she could kill herself in hopes it will help her disassociate out of this, but of course it doesn't work. Ain't it just the way.

Fortunately her stupid watchguard saves the day with his _fifteen _minute check-in. "Hi. Are you okay?" Nurse Cranston asks.

She looks up and it's the first time she actually says, "No."

Nurse Cranston escorts her back to her bedroom and lets her take a nap. It's not even a big deal that she keeps her hands underneath the covers.

* * *

Kim has a ratty mustache now. The hairs are so dark. Even her cheeks are starting to pop out little whiskers. She hates that she's used to it.

Nurse DaMont weighs her one day and notices that she's lost a lot of weight for someone who has been 'eating better,' so they put her back on the 1-to-1 watch to make sure she actually eats her meat and doesn't throw it up. It ends up being for the best. DaMont is the one to notice that for someone who sleeps so much, Kim is awfully fatigued. Turns out her meds are no good.

Great.

It scares her when they do nice things for her. Because they work for Betty, and Betty hates her so much.

Maybe Kim is actually crazy. Maybe Betty loves her, and wants her to recover, and Kim is too sad and stupid to know that. Bortel keeps telling Kim that all these people she says hate her actually love her. How could that be though? And what the fuck does Bortel know?

"Why don't you just put a fucking Moodulator on my neck and call it a day?" she snaps.

Kim ends up losing one point over her outburst which is frustrating because she had to follow her diet for a solid week to get it. She feels kind of bad and decides not to fight back anymore.

* * *

It's exciting to be in the thick of a heist. Well, it's not really a heist, but Kim pretends it's one.

Basically she's been chilling out with Corey in an empty room. Kim really likes Corey; they are pretty and emphatic. It's sad that she hurts herself so much. She's also shy, which is a shame because she knows exactly what to say to make someone smile.

After Nurse Berman does the ten minute check-in on Kim, which times out with the half hour check-in that Corey gets from her nurse, the heist begins. The two strip fast and toss their clothes across the room to the other, of course without being a Sneaky Pete.

The second the bra hooks behind Kim's back, she remembers how her mom made her wear a bra before she even started developing. It was scratchy and you could see it through her shirts sometimes. Embarrassing. But this? The way it hugs her body? No matter how flat she is, no matter how oversized it is for her, no matter how she can look past the cups and see her tiny chest, wow this is empowering.

When the hem of the dress flutters down to her knees, it feels kind of bad because she knows she'll never fit in her old outfits again, but it's still a victory. She twirls around and the dress swishes along with her. "Can I keep it?"

Corey looks over, very cute in Kim's boyish suit, and smiles. "You look really happy."

Kim is a little embarrassed at how red her face is, but she comes over and hugs Corey tight. But that doesn't feel right. Something about it is too distant. So Kim reaches over and grabs Corey's hand, thumb running across her knuckle. That feels better.

Things happen fast, neither of the girls really think about, but Kim backs Corey over to a wall. Corey slouches against the plaster, sliding down until her long body drapes past Kim. Kim grins mischievously and kneels between the older girl's thighs. Their eyes are not interested in anything else but the other right now.

Kim isn't seriously attracted to Corey, and after all, she's dating someone right now. It's a platonic thing, and the two girls both have very physical needs. But outside of this hospital, Kim doesn't think they'd be friends. But it doesn't matter because they're here, and she's sure Yori would be good with it.

Kim just wants to help Corey feel happy, and well, she also kind of has the ulterior motive of feeling more like a girl. The clothes help her out a lot.

They only kiss for a little bit. Corey holds Kim close. Corey is actually anorexic and Kim is verging on that — so the warmth of their bodies — the warmth they can never feel for themselves — is immensely comforting.

* * *

Exercise class as a meat eater ends up being traumatizing. Who would have guessed? Oh right. Kim did. What a smartie.

It happens during a push-up. That rush of wind flaring up at her from below as she bobs down — she's back in the wilderness. Falling from a tree branch, slamming into a deer and hurtling it to the ground.

She can't move. Her joints lock in place and she can't — fucking — move. Her heart is pounding, like why aren't you moving you fucking idiot?

She crawls across the floor, legs swinging like pendulums, her body like a mechanical spider. People start staring so she looks at them. Her pupils are wide as dinner plates and she hisses. Oh, if only she could move straight.

She remembers this feeling. Fighting cops on the beach so effortlessly. She can't do that anymore, she'd get trounced and laughed at. She's a stupid boy with a mustache. Heh heh. It's funny. Her head bobs up and down as the limbs tap across the floor.

Nothing really makes sense. Her limbs speak to her — they breathe in and out and say — _complete the transformation _. Mm. Okay. The kneecaps rush in and she almost backsteps into the wall. Her arms waggle in the arm and then adjust, hands slipping into the pockets of her hoodie.

Casual.

She ends up in the bathroom. She doesn't even hesitate at the doors; she goes into the men's room and immediately catches her reflection.

She kinda looked like a girl when she came here but it's been two months and that's gone. Her face is hairy, her blond locks are raggedy, and there's other body hair too. She didn't even try today. No spark of femme anywhere.

She slips into a bathroom stall and immediately drops her pants. Can you even do this when you're sad and losing your effin' mind? She grits her teeth and tries anyways.

The blood rushes through her veins. It hardens fast and she's sweating all over. She's going to stink after this, she just knows it. Haha. A stupid, smelly, horny boy. Great. Let this please be the actual bottom of the barrel.

This has to be it: going for a jerk off between visits from the nurse. She's not even supposed to be in here; you stay in the class you're in. You don't just up and leave —

— ow, fuck. Her dick hurts. She glances down. It's just flopping around. She shuts her eyes and really tries to think of something erotic. Yori? Oh no. Not Yori. Kim. _Kim Possible _.

Her name is _\- - - - - - _ and she wants to be Kim Possible. That's the perspective of her fantasy.

She imagines what it would be like to have that body — to be happy.

She comes. It feels really good. Although really it's bad because the idea of happiness is an actual turn-on for her now.

She's slumped against the toilet and says fuck it — and vomits everything she has left in her.

She gets lost on the way back to exercise class. There are voices in her head telling her what to do. Which is new. How fun.

One is her old voice, and the other is the deeper voice that sometimes threatens to overtake her. They're arguing about what she should do with her life. _\- - - - - - _and Kim, always going at it. She likes to imagine them as flashing lights.

Kim is a green beam and _\- - - - - - _is an orange one. They run into each other, spreading into beautiful rays of light among a black space. Each beam spreads to form a solid wall to hold back the other and eventually, one breaks. Everytime one of them wins an argument, they blast through the other beam and obliterate it, soaring through until the other beam returns and tangles into them.

She's basically deciding that she's going to eventually kill herself. Hard stop.

Kim stops in the hall and vomits again. This time unintentionally.

She's too tired for tears. She feels like a carcass rotting on the side of the road, waiting to get picked up and buried. Why is she here?

Corey told Kim that when she gets stressed out like this, it's a really good idea to close her eyes and hum something pleasant. Practice good breathing techniques. So she does it. The green and orange beams drill into each other again, but this time both of them erupt. A purple beam spirals in and she knows its her. Kim Possible. Not ideal but it's something.

She can have a penis and still be a girl. She can be good enough to get on hormones. She can pull this off, and it starts with finding an adult, tugging on their sleeve, and telling them she had an accident in the hallway

* * *

_Beeeep. Beeeep. Beeeep. _

Click.

"H-hello?"

Kim's been allowed phone calls for a few weeks now; not that they are of any use. Who can she call? Her first parents?

Well after some time, she comes up with a new scheme. She just has to wait for a day where she can call and Nurse DaMont is her handler; they've actually been getting along — somehow.

"Ron Stoppable's office.**"**

Kim smirks a little and leans in closer to the receiver; Nurse DaMont is a few feet away so she needs to play it cool.

"Hi! Um. My name's Han, I'm Ron Stoppable's little sister. We're having a family emergency and he's not picking up his phone. Can you get him?"

There's a painfully long delay. Kim obviously can't keep too quiet while waiting, so she chatters on about nonsense, pretending to be answering trivia questions on a dumb radio show that she just _loves. _

Kim is of course a terrible liar — she displays the same obvious tells that Ron has — like overtalking, laughing too loudly, and doing the darty eye dance. Nurse DaMont's mother didn't no raise no fool so he catches on that something is off and he draws closer.

Kim tries not to swear under her breath. "Um — Martin Van Buren!" she blurts out.

Two burly hands clap her shrimpy shoulders. Fuck. Shit. God. Fucking. Dammit.

"John Quincy Adams!" DaMont hisses.

Kim blinks. "Huh?"

"The only President to serve in Congress after his term. That's the question, right?"

Kim takes too long to get it. "Oh! I thought it was — wait! Hey!" she blushes furiously, "I take my answer back! John Quincy Adams!"

She purses her lips in deep concentration and then feigns a heavy sigh. She turns back to DaMont and motions for him to go away. "No cheating."

Nurse DaMont raises his hands into the air and chuckles as he wanders back to his leaning spot.

It's hard not to smile, but that excitement fades fast — a high voice is snarling at her on the other line.

"Uh, this is Ron," Ron says. Hearing him in-person makes it clear that the first person Kim talked to was also Ron — just him pretending to be his own secretary. Apparently he's opened up his own detective agency.

"Who the fuck are you?" Ron swears. "My sister's like 3 years old, what do you want?"

"Ron?" Kim blurts out. Oh shit, she shouldn't have done that. She shouldn't have said his name with such familiarity.

Nurse DaMont notices and is speed walking over. Fuck fuck. His hands are about to wrench the phone from her grip.

Think fast Possible.

The line goes dead, but not before Kim says, "That wasn't a nightmare."

* * *

A week unceremoniously passes by. She really hasn't been feeling well, and stuff has been weird between her and Corey. The girl thankfully catches the vibe that Kim can't stomach a relationship, but now she just talks down to her like a little kid. Sure, Corey is a few heads taller and sure, Kim is constantly getting reinstitutionalized for bad behavior but that doesn't mean Kim is actually a thirteen year old.

"You know, I'm actually going to be leaving soon," Corey says passively while walking down the halls aimlessly with Kim.

Kim stops and cranes her neck up to the girl — which winds up being a mistake — because Corey notices and kneels down to Kim's level to talk to her.

Corey purses her lips and looks off to the side. "Probably at least."

Kim nods. You have to get approved by a panel of doctors to leave. It's part of the agreement when you volunteer to enter the hospital, which most people do.

"Don't you care, Miriam?" Corey snaps after Kim fails to respond in any way.

Kim blinks and tries to focus. "Sorry. I'm just really drained. I'm happy you're feeling better, I'm just going to miss you."

"Yeah, I'll miss you too," Corey touches her face and it reminds Kim that they are still friends. "Um. By the way, I heard you got in trouble for prank calling Ron Stoppable. What was that about?"

Kim's eyes widen and the gears in her head almost crack apart from the sheer speed of thought. "Yes. So. Um. First off. Not a prank call. Yeah."

Corey crosses her arms. "You gonna tell me?"

Kim eyes her carefully — is it really worth telling her? She's never going to see Corey again, and not even really in a bad way. Talking about it is just going to get Corey in trouble anyways, so Kim shakes her head. "Sorry. Can't."

Corey frowns. It doesn't come up again at least. Corey gets approved to leave a few days later and that's it.

* * *

All the dinnerware in the cafeteria is either plastic or styrofoam. It's a lot less likely to hurt you than metal or glass. It makes Kim sick because she actually campaigned against single use plastic — but to be fair, this is kind of an instance where it's acceptable? It doesn't excuse these big corporations from —

— fuck it, Kim, just take the goddamn — there.

She knows it's wrong but she slips a plastic knife into her sneaker. She smirks because no one notices.

Everything is numb. The day doesn't feel like anything; there's a knife under her sock, that's her life.

She pretends to sleep so that she can sneak into the bathroom around 2AM. It's not a smart plan, but Kim's feeling a little delirious. But that doesn't change the facts:

Ice cold water can't soften your skin.

A plastic knife has no catch or strength.

Kim doesn't have enough points for an actual razor. So this will have to do.

She gets a little frustrated and grabs her lip, pulling it over her gritted teeth, running the knife over and over the black hairs. She swipes and swipes and swipes and yelps when she doesn't stop the knife fast enough and it slams her middle finger.

Oh. Duh. It doesn't take long before she snaps the silly knife in two. She tosses one half to the floor and uses the pointier end on her face. Still nothing. It swats at the hairs like an arm sweeping over grass and she snaps. Screams something primal and jabs the sharp end into her wrist. Again and again and again.

The cuts are old now; they don't reopen like they used to. It's just scars on these stupid flimsy wrists. The skin reddens at the impact but she barely nicks the wounds. Jabbing jabbing jabbing. She hurls the knife across the room and spins around, seething. Her hand grips the sink and she looks down at it. That could work.

A door handle pulls down. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. It has to work, there's no more time. She swings her head into the sink and she sees blots of light when she pulls her head back up. Another swing and a flash of black. She tries again, but a large hand slaps her chest, fingers digging into the soft flesh. She screams and without thinking claws at her assailant's head. Bald. So it's Nurse DaMont. Great.

A big hand comes over her head and shoves it down. She tries to break free from their grip but he's obviously stronger than her.

"Fuck you!" she screams, grabbing his hand with both of hers and digging her nails in as deep as possible. He shouts and she uses the opportunity to bite him. She actually draws blood and at some point there's a slap.

She hits the ground like a boxer hits the mat. The first bounce actually kinda feels good. It reminds her that she's an actual human being and not a horrible demon from Hell. So she's a little more grounded. The second bounce, the once where she skids across the tiles and hurts her face, that one makes her angry. She swings onto all four of her limbs and backs away like a scared cat, teeth showing.

"I'm sick of people controlling me by hitting me," she says slowly. Her limbs shuffle naturally to the right as Dash draws closer. It's like she's been a quadruped her whole life. "I'm stronger than Shego. I'm stronger than you."

"I'm glad you're working that out finally," Dash tries to keep it calm. "But you need to calm down _\- - - - - - _. Your behavior is unacceptable."

She snickers and brushes a sleeve across her mouth, wiping away the blood dripping down. "Take your best shot you fucking shill."

"Listen to yourself," Dash is definitely a little hurt, but largely unphased. "Do you understand how childish you've been acting?"

She takes a deep breath. "I'm not — "

"Lying to us, abusing special privileges, mouthing off at Bortel, whining, crying all the time, tugging on sleeves, stealing, and jerking off in our bathroom stalls?"

Her face falls a little. She thought that had been discreet. "Well what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to act like the hero you used to be."

She blinks back tears. "How the fuck am I supposed to do that when I'm treated like I'm not even human?!"

Dash hesitates. "You're sick."

"I'm trying," she adds meekly. "And this isn't the solution."

Dash nods very slowly and looks over his shoulder. Deep breath.

"That's why I want to get you out of here."

She's calm now. Her body is relaxed and it feels silly to be on all fours. She sloppily gets back to her feet. "What?"

"This is fucked up. I'm not telling anyone about what happened."

"O-okay, b-but I screamed and kind of — "

Dash comes over and grabs Kim, hugging her tight. "I got it. Cranston and Berman are picking up Bortel at his place right now. I want you to calm down and tell him what you need. We're not leaving his office until you get on the right medications."

Dash gets back up and takes Kim's hand. She wants to pull it away but his touch is nice when she's been so lonely. He keeps talking. "I don't know what Betty wants to do with you after you're out but this is fucked up. You deserve a lot more. But not a word to anyone, you understand?"

She gulps. "Of course. Yeah. Th-thanks, Dash — I mean….Nurse DaMont."

As they exit her bathroom, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She doesn't even recognize who's looking back at her anymore.

* * *

Negotiations go poorly. A tantrum may have been involved. There's some shouting, and some spit that flies. Not just from her thankfully.

But does Bortel end up getting punished for spitting at her? Obviously not.

* * *

Solitary confinement sucks.

* * *

Kim gets a new room mate: Stephanie. A black girl about Kim's age. They don't really get along at first, though Kim desperately wants to be her friend. She never liked Corey that much, but she still misses her. She wants to fill that void again.

Kim thinks that Stephanie's gay too. Which helps.

But it also feels sort of manipulative. Stephanie like cries in her sleep and stuff. Kim knows because she herself can't sleep. She's too excited about going to the cafeteria tomorrow and showing her bare face (Nurse DaMont gave Kim a ton of points that she could finally spend on razor privileges) to the world.

Kim also has dresses now.

Kim has never really been a girly girl but when you're this repressed? You go a little nutty.

So it's very late at night — or early in the morning — when Nurse Berman grumbles something about needing to take a piss, but he's really not supposed to leave Stephanie unsupervised.

Kim snaps and climbs out of bed in her brand new nightie and locks eyes with Berman. "Hey," she rasps.

"What do you want?" he frowns.

"If you wanna go piss— uh, go to the bathroom I mean," Kim is working on not swearing because it makes her lose points, "I can watch her for a few minutes."

Berman sizes her up. "You're a troublemaker though."

She smirks. "Yeah I am. But c'mon. Ya gotta pee and you're not the one who needs 1-to-1 supervision."

Nurse Berman cranes his big, thick neck and finally shrugs. "Fine," and he wanders off.

When Nurse Berman does return, he is annoyed to find that Kim is not awake, and also that she is in Stephanie's bed. Kim stacked her blanket on top of Stephanie's and delicately slipped in, wrapping her arms around the older girl.

It's like super against protocol but ultimately he allows it because it apparently puts a stop to Stephanie's nightmares.

* * *

Kim is looking in the mirror one day — shaving by herself, no big deal — when she catches that she doesn't actually have an Adam's Apple. As in when she phased back into reality from Ron's void, she didn't have one anymore. She has to put the razor down because she's laughing so hard.

Ron's stupid monkey magic forgot to give her an Adam's Apple. Hahaha. What a fucking goof.

* * *

The television room is as dead as ever. A bunch of sad sacks spread out around the room, pretending to look busy. But somehow they all notice the depressing news shut off. Heads start turning and eventually all fall on one thing: Miriam Director, standing on a table with a sheet of paper in hand.

"My name is Miriam; I use she/her pronouns," Kim announces. At the beginning of this wretched journey, she used to overcompensate with pitching her voice. Now her tone is relaxed. Part of it comes from her knowing she's on HRT again, and part of it is just her general attitude. Kim feels okay today.

Some of the mental hospital regulars blink in dismay at her. "I used to come in here a lot to cry and I really like this place. I kinda want to cry today so I thought I'd share a poem I wrote in art therapy."

She holds the sheet of paper before her eyes and squints. Looks back up at her captive audience. "This is about a friend I let down." Deep breath. "Okay," she whispers to herself.

"_A clap on the back, a glimmer in the eyes_

_A smile that doesn't fit; glowing skin _

_A tension I didn't want, my coulda shoulda woulda didn'ts _

_You ol' so-and-so how you doing? _

_Um _

_Well _

_Yeah ah it's _

_Good! _

_Three years ago I was trying to hold it together and then _

_Then I saw you and you saw me despite my facade _

_And I collapsed in your arms, melted, out of control _

_Like a baby, I was oh yeah work is good um yep _

_I'm at the coffee shop still yeah _

_(Oh yes, I know that things aren't fine _

_And how I'd love to cry into those arms again _

_But back then I was misery incarnate, and shouldn't _

_Shouldn't I, well, shouldn't I be hopeful for them just once _

_I was their project after all _

_And they worked so hard on me) _

_Suicide, hah, oh, that old thing _

_I daren't even think of the word _

_I'm great now, I'm writing again _

_Writing, this is writing _

_Look, at the words, at the movement _

_It's amazing how I can take my specific thoughts and write them down and call them _

_Art _

_Then, oh, oh, oh drat _

_A crack in my voice and I hope they let it _

_Pass _

_Because I don't want to _

_Hurt you again _

_Hurt you again? _

_Ha I am the one who is suicidal so that's funny _

_See, look, writing! Writing means you are doing better _

_I just know that you are strong and good _

_And that I am worthless and already have a plan _

_Maybe next week, who knows, always hated thursdays _

_Heh heh heh _

_Just please smile and hurry off somewhere else _

_Stay away because you will live long and _

_I will not and you shouldn't get involved _

_Forget I was ever here _

_Oh _

_Oh _

_Oh that's right _

_I forgot _

_We're not friends anymore." _

Kim stops talking. No one has clapped or snapped along yet, and she silently swears to herself that maybe the last line wasn't very good, and she leans into her back leg, throwing up jazz hands. "That's it!"

* * *

Kim's been having weird dreams lately. She dreams that she's a boy fighting off mobsters —not her mobsters at least. Probably. Unless Big Daddy expanded the operation.

It's very strange. Kim hasn't thought about being a crime kingpin in a long time. Not that she ever was one…

But the dreams are vivid — she also dreams in first person now, which is new. It's not even her hands that fly out in front of her to punch people. They are bigger hands. Pale and freckled, desperately swinging at scrambling mobsters. He's a good fighter, this boy, but his energy's not focused. He can't win like this.

Obviously it's Ron. He's fighting generic mobsters and gangs, trying to find where Big "Big" Daddy Brotherson is holed up. And he's losing. He has all the power in the world but he can't control it anymore, and he gets his ass kicked.

Kim wants to go to him and help him but she can't. She tries to pretend that these are just nightmares — but she can't find the strength to bring them up to Bortel like her other nightmares. Because she dreams about this boy every night for weeks. He is on the hunt to find someone. That someone probably being her. She wants to scream and tell Ron to stop, that she killed herself and he'll never see her again, but anytime she tries to interfere she wakes up.

The last time she dreams about the boy is the one where the boy utterly fails. The mobsters get the jump on him and actually fight him off. The boy's pale hand raises itself into the air and directs its fingers towards the gang, and there's this spark of blue.

But the spark becomes a wisp and drifts away.

Ron keeps trying to summon this crazy strength of his — this magic — but it won't come. It's gone, and the wisp is the last he sees of it before someone conks him out.

* * *

Kim wakes up in the middle of the night and almost screams; but it's just a nurse. These guys are lucky she's shrunken down into a normal teenager that has been out of combat for almost four months now — because those I'm-going-to-karate-chop-the-brains-out-of-surprise-callers PTSD moves would probably split skulls.

She stays perfectly still as they draw blood from her arm. She hates being manhandled, especially by men when she's trapped in a body they think is normal for her, but she knows the best advice to follow is to stay perfectly still and let them do whatever they need to do.

* * *

There are some days where the dysphoria is worse than how it was before the blockers.

Basically, Kim gets erections sometimes that are really embarrassing. She can't help it, they just come in. Even with the anti-androgens that are _supposed _to stop them, they still happen. The more and more nights Kim spends cuddling with Stephanie, the more anxious she feels. Because those erections are really embarrassing.

Nothing feels good. This is the closest Kim's been to a girl in a while and she feels more like a boy than ever.

"Miriam… where are you going?"

Kim freezes and looks back at Stephanie, beautiful, sleepy, Stephanie, yawning as she grabs Kim's tiny hands and pulls her back into the bed. Kim blushes and pulls a blanket past her waist. "I — um — I — have an — uh — "

"Oh fucking whatever, Miriam," Stephanie rolls her eyes and reaches under said blanket and grabs onto said nuisance.

Kim's eyes shoot open and she tries to protest that but — but but but but but whatever, yeah, it feels soooooooo goooooooood….

Kim shakes herself back into consciousness, forgetting herself completely. Who's Kim Possible again? She giggles and slips a hand under Stephanie's shirt and smashes her wet lips against her roommate's. Palms press together and fingers intertwine.

Three more days and Kim's case will be presented to the panel.

* * *

She isn't sure why she's having a meltdown, but she just starts crying during breakfast. She hasn't been this frail in weeks and now she's sobbing so much. Nurse DaMont asks her what's wrong but she can't answer, she can't stop crying.

When she tries and fails to take a nap, she realizes how much her head hurts. There's this unearthly force pushing against her temples from the inside out. In the weakest of moments, she catches a blue glow coming from underneath her skin, flowing with her veins.

It's not hard to put two and two together — Ron loses his powers, the connection between them drops, and now she feels the pressure of what is likely his power.

Uh. Chalk it up to being crazy; she's not that far gone. She can't have Ron's magic, that wouldn't make sense. Well, it's happened before but not like this. Not a full transfer, and if it was his magic, she would be erupting with power… right?

Yes. That's it. She's just crazy. The dull thudding in her head is bad but it can't be _that _bad. Those dreams about Ron are wish fulfillment sort of. She only wishes he still cared about her but she knows better. He only cares about her because he wants her dead. He wants whatever he thinks justice is. She feels sorry for him and it's bad because it's going to prevent her from protecting herself when he does come for her. Boo hoo.

* * *

Kim has another bad day.

Someone in her exercise class taunts her, insinuates that she's some kind of pervert, as if a girl can't have well toned arms and legs. Yes, Kim is getting strong again, and yes, she can beat the shit out of this little snot if she wants to. But she doesn't.

She doesn't want to be a bully. She has to be good so she can leave this place.

In the afternoon, Kim has to have a second daily check-in with Bortel, which is unusual. Turns out her meds are wrong. Again.

Explains a lot.

* * *

Art therapy is not fun either.

She feels so tired.

She tries to write a new poem but her fingers can barely twist the crayon right. The letters come out soft and loopy, crossing over each other. She grits her teeth and tries writing the words again but this time she writes the wrong letters.

She looks around the room and screams; she can't read. Nothing makes sense. It's like her brain short-circuited and she's stupid. She hates it.

She keeps trying though and soon, the crayon scribbles so fast it snaps in two. Kim growls and grabs one of the bitlets left and scrapes it over the page hard, managing to tear through it. She screams and tries again and eventually the teacher has to make Kim take a nap to calm down.

* * *

The panel is so scary. It's all these faces Kim doesn't know and it's so overwhelming. They keep asking questions that she doesn't want to answer, things that trigger her, and she ends up a sobbing mess before the panel.

It's kind of a no brainer what happens next.

* * *

"Miriam…"

Stephanie's soft breath tickles the back of Kim's ears and she blushes. Kim feels so small next to her, especially when she's been crying for over an hour now. Stephanie is the only one Kim has ever really felt comfortable dressing down around. Just a nightie and pajama shorts. Stephanie opts for something baggier, a whole flannel get-up. Very gay. Kim feels so guilty sometimes, because she's dating Yori. But she also knows Yori would be okay with it, Kim is just messed up and lonely and… she's been crying all day. It hurts to cry, her throat crackles and makes everything worse.

"What is it, Stephanie?" Kim manages to choke out.

"You should cheer up. We can at least hang out together for a few more weeks."

Kim does smile a little, because it is a consolation, but obviously not the prize here. "I know, but — I guess I'm just disappointed in myself. I thought I was ready."

"We all grow up at our own pace…." Stephanie whispers. Flat teeth nibble against Kim's ear and she tries not to moan.

"You have no idea how true that is," Kim cackles.

Chapped lips sloppily run down the ear to Kim's shoulder, working their way up Kim's neck. There's a little biting involved. She loves it but also kinda hates it because — um — erections.

"Ow!" Stephanie yelps. Kim raises an eyebrow and turns over, feeling something peel off her neck. As she lands on her left shoulder, there's a sudden lightness to her migraine, and the cloudy plume in her eyes goes away. She feels refreshed. Not suicidal. Just a little sad. Kim frowns and looks at what's caught between Stephanie's teeth. A tiny piece of metal with a frowny face on it —

Holy shit.

"Don't swallow that!" Kim yelps and snags the little machine turning it around in the air. Sure enough, it's a Moodulator. What a surprise. "Oh, that son of a bitch!"

"Huh?" Stephanie leans in. "What? What's that?"

"Um… long story," Kim catches herself. Shit shit. She shuffles up onto her rear. This is all so fucked up. She makes hard eye contact with Stephanie and leans in, pecking her on the lips. "Forget about me, okay?"

"What?" Stephanie stutters. "Miriam, what are you — "

"I need to go see Doctor Bortel."

"But it's past curfew — "

"It'll be okay. Don't tell anyone about what you saw; I'm not coming back."

Kim doesn't really know what she's doing, but she's out of bed and her bare feet are speeding across the cold floor. She knows it would be smart to put socks and shoes on at least, but she's too anxious.

The second she opens the door she's greeted by her two favorite guys: Nurses Cranston and Berman. She retreats back into her dorm room, the two broad shoulder boys looming over her.

There's a brief moment where she's scared, where she feels so small standing before them and then she remembers a hot tip a dying friend gave her — _puh-lease, you can do anything _.

Kim runs forward, ducking under a lunge from Cranston, and jumps into the wall — okay, it's a little crazy and she hasn't done this in forever — but she somersaults off the wall and her legs grip Cranston at the cheekbones.

Kim actually hits the ground first and it hurts a lot — but Cranston does too and it's his jaw that takes the blow. Kim brings her feet together and leers at him, chest heaving. She's still got that spunk but damn it takes a lot more out of her than it used to. As Berman draws closer, she's actually not confident she can win this.

She ducks under an apelike chop and twists behind him, punching him in the neck. It definitely hurts both of them — but her a bit more. Her delicate frame is not intended for this much violence, and her groin is searing from that hip check. There's another lunge and this time she rolls right under him, slamming her bare feet into his chest. It's good — but not particularly strong and it just gets him lumbering.

Berman growls and jumps at her again but moments before he grabs her, a blanket slings over his eyes and pulls hard against it. He stumbles some more and before Kim can even question it, she nails Berman in the dick. He crumples. She chops him in the head, conking him out once and for all, and looks up to meet Stephanie's wide eyes. Stephanie's tall, but she looks so small in the oversized flannel on the bed, blanket curled in her fists.

Kim forgets that they are just kids sometimes. But this time it's impossible to ignore.

"Miriam, please don't leave me, I really like you — "

Kim bites her lip. "Um. Um. Okay. B-but, if I tell you what's going on, you need to promise not to laugh."

Stephanie nods and climbs down.

"How familiar are you with Kim Possible's suicide?"

Stephanie frowns. Pretty much every suicide kid knows it left and right. "It's kinda weird — that like — those government people won't say what happened to her… I hope she didn't try to kill herself again, you know? Most people cool down after one attempt in a day. But it's still really sad."

Kim nods. Oh God, how does she say this?

"Right — well — the person who brought me here, who found me after I tried to kill myself… is the head of Global Justice. And if you look those two nurses up online, it's not hard to see that they are two thirds of Team Impossible. They work for Global Justice too."

"Th—that—that's weird?"

"Yes," Kim takes in a deep breath. "See Steph, I'm Ki— ugh — oh my God. Okay." Another deep breath. "They're watching me. It's not a coincidence — and that device you found on my neck? It's called a Moodulator; it controls people's emotions. But… um…shit. Shit. Listen… fuck. This is really hard, sorry."

"Miriam, it's okay," Stephanie grabs her shoulder. "You can tell me."

"I know, I'm just really scared…." Kim gulps, dry lips grinding together until she can stomach looking at Stephanie. "Urgh…."

"Miriam…."

"Stephanie. I _am _Kim Possible."

* * *

Bortel's door opens with a BANG. "How long?!" Kim shrieks before she even lays eyes on the despicable piece of garbage.

Bortel sniffs and lazily peeks over his binder. "Hm?"

"Oh fuck you!" Kim squeaks, pressing her stomach into the desk, shoving the Moodulator into his face. "Seriously. How fucking long have you — " Bortel takes his sweet time in drawing in a deep breath, and Kim putters herself out.

When Bortel's face drops, he looks very somber. "Just a few days. It's for your own good."

"B-but — no, I was ready! I'm better!" she challenges. "You know that — you've seen my progress."

Bortel shakes his head and waggles a finger. "You're not conditioned to be a Global Justice agent yet. Betty asked for me to plant the Moodulator on — "

"Why?! I thought you assholes wanted me to recover and — and — " Kim stutters, eye filling with tears. God. She squeezes the bridge of her nose. This fucking brainwashing, these knee jerks reactions she can't stop… She focuses really hard. Imagines dropping into secret lairs with Ron, dropping between rings of goons with quips at the ready, effortlessly fighting through waves of drones, and saving the world.

Fuck.

Kim almost gags saying it, because she's not supposed to say these kind of things but —

"Betty's a cunt."

"Whoa!" Bortel shouts. "I mean, sure, she's a little mean sometimes but — "

There's a scrambling as Kim climbs across the desk. Bortel yelps and grabs at a drawer, pulling it open fast, but before his hand can get in there, Kim fishes through it, snags what feels to be a gun, trains it on Bortel's fat face, and wedges a shoulder against the wood before tumbling off the desk.

Bortel's nostrils flare and he jumps back. "Don't shoot!"

Kim narrows her eyes; she really doesn't like using guns. Not since New Hampshire, but as her finger draws closer to the trigger she remembers something.

The back of Betty's head, her pretty brown hair, neck tilted over the hole in the Global Justice hallway. Kim — or Kimberly, rather — had a gun aimed at Betty's skull. Even then her hands shook. Betty cackled and Kimberly cried. "I'm surprised you haven't killed me yet," Betty laughed.

Kim flinches through the tears and Bortel's pink hand comes to her throat. She falls off the table, gun yanked from her hand and into Bortel's. Her limbs flap to hit him but they don't reach Bortel and her neck crunches against the corner of the wall; it hurts like crazy and there's a gun trained on her now.

"Is this what you want?!" Bortel cries out. "Do you want to get the life sentence?"

Kim snarls and slides back up the wall very slowly. Her heart is beating so fast now. This feels like end-of-the-line stuff.

Something pulsates in her body, this horrible force jettisoning against her small frame, threatening to snap bones and puncture flesh. It's this power from time zones away — a power a far-off boy lost. She doesn't want this. But she's choking on it, she doesn't want it to go down this way and….

"Drop the gun, please," Kim sneers, trying to stave off Ron's Mystical Monkey Power. "Something is about to happen."

Bortel shakes his head. "You are so arrogant that you think you can trick — "

There's a horrible screeching sound that comes from neither of them.

Kim notices Bortel's eyes widen in horror before she sees the blue claw lash out of her arm. It's so bright and so all-consuming that she can't even see her own hand through the spindly arm that reaches across the room.

The claw launches into the air, sprouting four deadly talons and swipes down over Bortel. It's all happening so fast.

She grabs the puppeted arm, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as she struggles to hold the disturbed power back. Somehow, she pulls it off and for a second, the claw holds in the air and it's obvious that this isn't like the previous times this has happened between Kim and Ron, but the claw is blasting off crackles of light like sunspots. It shimmers in place and it almost threatens to tear her own arm off just by being there.

Usually too there's_ some _sense of Ron paired with these outbursts, but this is just vague yet unadulterated anger. Because Kim really is the Mystical Monkey Master now.

Kim winces, bites her tongue by accident, and whips her arm back. The claw retracts, blurring into a gust of sapphire wind that throws Kim hard against the wall. Though a pointed blow, it's as if every part of her is pressed against the plaster, like a shoe to a bug. But when she drops back down, the magic is still there, living in her chest. Sparks fly and knock things over as she pushes herself back to her feet.

At some point, Bortel passes out — probably from fear.

"Holy shit…" says a voice from the left. "M-Miriam?"

Kim turns and sees Stephanie standing in the doorway. Kim's not sure what to say. She tries to say something but gasps as her eye sockets burn.

"S-sorry," Stephanie stutters. "I'm still getting used to it… um… Kim?"

Kim holds back the magic and it's akin to the lurch in your mouth when you throw back vomit, and it burns so much. Kim is blue eye-ing for sure; she can see sapphire light skimming the bridge of her nose. "Stephanie… you need to go," Kim finally says.

"What?" Stephanie shakes, "I don't want to leave you."

"I don't either but I can't control Ron's powers," Kim stutters, snagging Bortel's gun from his limp hand, stuffing it into her pajama shorts. She looks up to Stephanie and catches a glimpse of her reflection in Stephanie's brown eyes.

Kim's eyes are _definitely _pure blue. Glowing. "Go."

Stephanie shakes her head.

Kim growls, mostly because she likes this girl so much, and runs up to her. There's this awful burning again and all of a sudden Kim is floating. Her feet lift off the floor and Kim almost launches herself into the ceiling. She restrains herself and gets grounded, charging into Stephanie like a quarterback.

They kiss. Kim's fingers rummage through Stephanie's hair and hesitates, but still plants the Moodulator on her neck. "Stephanie, you're a really good person but you can't let me drag you down; they were never planning on releasing me."

"Miriam — " Stephanie's voice is never this high. She doesn't want to move away from the wall. "I'm scared."

Kim blinks and flashes her a reassuring smile. Like her old self would, and then somehow uses Ron's magic to access the controller to the Moodulator in Bortel's pocket.

Stephanie gasps as a roulette of emotions swoops through her all at once. Happiness, confusion, despair, anger, fear, cycling through, moving so fast and so bluntly that after a few seconds, her brain fries. Stephanie's body goes limp and Kim catches her before she hits the floor.

Kim brushes Stephanie's hair past her eyes and kisses her on the forehead before laying her down.

Kim's voice shakes. "You don't think I'm scared too?"

* * *

Kim knows that she needs to escape as soon as possible, especially with the ticking time bomb of the Mystical Monkey Power threatening to destroy everything around her, but curiosity gets the best of her. She passes the Pharmacy and can't help but slip in.

Stealing is wrong, but Kim also needs to be on the right medications. No one will prescribe her with the right stuff so this is the best she's got. A li'l DIY, y'know? It really brings her back to when she asked Mugsy and Vinny to steal some drugs for her. Now it's Kim's job to make it happen.

Antidepressants, testosterone blockers, estrogen, and whatever else it is she can get her hands on. She sifts through medicine for a few minutes, dumping pills by the handful into plastic baggies. Still in just her nightie and shorts, Kim doesn't have anywhere to stuff away the baggies, so they all stay bunched up in her fists.

Kim hopes Stephanie will be okay. She settled her body back into her room, and did her best to fry Cranston and Berman's brains so that they hopefully don't associate any of this with poor Stephanie who deserves so much more.

Kim feels very anxious doing this, and maybe popping one of the random Xanax pills she finds isn't the best of ideas… but she does it. As her mind clears up, she becomes all the more aware of the horrible magic shaking her to the core, the sway of the magic literally jerking her arms up and down from their sockets.

Kim makes such a racket sifting through pills that she doesn't hear the approaching footsteps.

A shadow slides over Kim and a cold, deep voice speaks up. "_ Turn around and face me _."

Kim screams — this new person's arrival being so sudden — and twists on her bare feet, whirling around so fast her mind can't keep up with her actions and she accidentally fires off the gun.

The bullet spins through the air and Kim's not even sure who she's shooting at yet — but she's no killer. She can't be. Not again, not anymore. No more blood.

Kim has tried so fucking hard to keep everyone alive — and — _no _. She screams again as the blue energy blasts through her limbs, morphing into claws, swiping at the air, trying to catch the bullet. A banshee wail carves through the air the claws tear through.

The claws close around the bullet but they're too slow. Kim swipes again and the bullet_ just _manages to slip between the long fingers before they completely close up. Another grab, another miss — a scream cut short by a thud.

Doctor Betty Director slumps against one of the pill shelves, her crumpled body sending the shelf rocking, drawers of pills tumbling to the floor. Betty hacks a lung and looks up, her left shoulder mangled and bloodied by the gunshot. She chuckles and falls onto one knee.

Betty palms her bleeding shoulder and looks up at Kim, her thin lips twisted into the expression a cat makes when he's pleased with himself. Kim tries not to snarl and slowly takes steps towards Betty. "What's so funny?" Kim rasps.

"Me," Betty answers, head bowed. "I thought I could control you when this happened… and you just killed me by accident."

Betty looks so pathetic stooped over in some random pharmacy in the outskirts of Boston, losing blood rapidly. Dying to some confused kid who wasn't even trying to hurt her.

Kim looks away awkwardly. "You surprised me."

"Idiot," Betty coughs. "Dammit, I figured…" She shakes her head. "...all the power in the world, and you still can't do anything right."

"No," Kim echoes. "I can't."

Betty eyes Kim like she might lash out and kill her, even though every moment that slips past her without action is quickly bringing her to death's door. "It doesn't matter," she says eventually.

Kim raises an eyebrow.

Betty continues, "My plan was to get you to work for me."

"Uh — I figured?" Kim asks. Did Betty really think that was clever? Dumbass. "Why do you want _me _anyways? You already have Ron."

"No, he peaced out. He's pissed that I kept you alive," Betty's eye lights up. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"No, clearly," Kim frowns. "Enlighten me."

Betty smiles. "I tried to get you after Will got himself killed… and failed, as you might remember. Makes me hate Shego so much. If I got to you first… ho ho ho… you'd be — "

"Fuck you," Kim growls. "I'm not a toy, okay? I'm a person, and — "

Betty holds up a finger to silence Kim and gestures at the bleeding shoulder again. She coughs very dramatically, leaning really heavily into this role of a dying woman, and lets herself slump closer to the floor. "When you didn't turn, I went to Ronald and it was so… _easy _."

Kim nods; that doesn't surprise her. Ron never was very self-aware, always yelled at her when she tried to show him how Sensei was playing him the same way Shego played her like a fiddle. Ron's hatred for Kim eclipsed reality and all reason; he was lost. Probably still is.

"For a while, I was intent on just having Ronald at my side…" Betty overlong-alogues. "But then he raided the Bermuda Triangle, oh, I was_ pissed _. He didn't even tell me! No organization, nothing. I had to scramble to get him what he needed for his shitty hostage plot… and then I saw you outsmarting him, _beating _him every time and I realized how wrong I was to ever think Ronald could replace _you. _"

Kim narrows her eyes. "I'm not like him, you can't control me."

"Tsch, you're just as violent, if not more. I'm the one who had to deal with him after you _shot him through the fucking chest, _" Betty sneers. "I'm surprised you haven't killed him yet. You keep fucking with him, it's torture. But I guess you just don't want him dead yet, but… looks like you have his powers now, hah. I was hoping that'd happen."

"I don't even know how to use them. In case you missed it, I turned myself into an eight year old with these powers. I want nothing to do with them."

The claws wrap behind Kim's back and morph into these vine-like shapes. They wrap around Kim's torso gently in a X pattern, and plant themselves into the floor, slowly pushing Kim high into the air so that she towers over Betty. It scares Kim, but it's not like the power is making this up and forcing her to do something she doesn't want — this is how Kim feels inside. She likes power, she licks her lips at the thought of it.

"You let yourself turn," Betty spits. "You let a lot of things happen… even in the fucking weapons' library, you gave him mercy. You never quite lost your soft spot for him."

Kim glowers; she knows Betty is right… but…

"And _he _— he is so _focused _on you. When you washed back up on the shore after your suicide attempt, barely breathing… I knew what to do. Play up the rage, get people angry, get _him _angry and now… ha, do you think you even need Avarius' stupid wand now?"

Kim ignores that, she doesn't want to, _can't _play into Betty's bullshit. "You used Ron."

"Yeah," Betty smiles with so much pride. "You're the Mystical Monkey Master, Kim. It was always supposed to be you."

Kim glowers. "No. It wasn't."

A faint blue light shadows her nose, Kim is pretty sure she's blue eye-ing again now. The tendrils unwrap and open up into vicious claws. It's hard to hold it all back from Betty.

"You've taken his powers more times than I can count and boy, you know how to use them," Betty drawls, her voice getting weaker faster and faster. "Don't deny that. So — all I had to do was get you desperate and the boy hopeless."

Kim stands very still, afraid that any movement on her part might shift her into an uncontrollable, inconsolable rage.

"Ronald knows about all this," Betty laughs. "He hates me now, hates that I'd let you live, that I'd rehabilitate you. He just stays home all day now… he has that fake detective firm he thinks he can use to take me down but he's just so lonely, ha, and…" She coughs up real blood, it hits the floor hard. Betty looks up, a streak of crimson running down her square jaw. "...now you're better than him, _again _."

Betty offers a gloved hand. "C'mon, Kimberly. Join me and—"

"No," Kim says curtly.

Betty drops her hand to the floor. "Figured I might as well try." She coughs. "It's fine. Working with me, working with your mobsters, whatever it may be… _it's the same _."

Kim grits her teeth, she really shouldn't let Betty keep talking. It's fucking with her, and she needs to _get the fuck out _before Global Justice crashes in to kill her. But Kim can't move, she's waiting for Betty to say it.

"You're just as bad as me, Kim," Betty sighs. "We're cut from the same cloth, but you're the one coming out on top. So go ahead, go forward and do damage or whatever it is you want… just remember the little part I played for you, how _instrumental _I was in your take over the world bid. The people will hate you just as much as they would _me _, it doesn't matter who wins."

Kim can't hold her power back anymore.

Blue appendages blast from all over Kim and thrust at Betty like snakes, battering her body against the wall. The attack is relentless. Again and again, the military commander is banged against the wall, falling forward only to get slammed again. The wall splinters and wears away with each strike, the horrible screech of the magic making Kim wince. It's disgusting.

When Kim's had enough, she closes her fist and the tendrils disintegrate. Her other hand lashes out, punching the air, and six feet away Betty's head cracks back. It gives Kim pleasure but it's not enough, so she leaps into the air and unleashes a flurry. It's like mallets, but faster this time. Again and again. She feels her knuckles dig into Betty's crumpling form. But that's not enough. She can only _bend _bones like these and Kim longs to _break _.

So the blue hands become claws and she cuts and cuts and cuts. She smiles and it hurts her cheeks. Each finger digs into a trench, rides the blood, and this is better. Much better. They go and go and go and —

Eyes wide.

One last swipe. Overhead. Paws Betty down into the floor.

Kim crumples before the fallen figure, the blue energy still coursing through her body, not ready yet to go away, still thirsting for the kill.

Betty's head lolls into her shoulder, blood trailing across her jaw from a broken tooth. She coughs and whispers something. Kim has to kneel down and lean forward to hear her.

"_ Kill me _."

Fingers fumble and Betty pulls the revolver from Kim's shorts. She can't drop it, her hands are nearly paralyzed at this point, the best she can manage is to tilt her arm so that the gun may roll down into Kim's grip. Kim grabs it and presses the barrel to the woman's chin, pushing her head up as much as she can manage and waits.

Betty's jaw slides open and a mist shrouds her eye. But she's still there. Still alive. This person who's been #1 on her hit list since the beginning.

"_ What are you waiting for? _" Betty croaks.

Kim gently lowers the gun so that it bumps against the woman's chest. They look each other in the eyes. She needs to shoot. Kill her before she tries to manipulate her. It's the only way. Break the pattern.

Is that the pattern?

Betty tries for a chuckle but her lungs are crushed. She's actually moments away from death. Kim could tell herself she's saving the woman from the misery of a slow, agonizing, pathetic death; that would be acceptable for someone as wretched as Doctor Elizabeth Director. But Kim doesn't move a muscle.

Kim bites her lip. "I'm not going to kill you."

"_ Why? So I can rot in a cell forever? Such cliche, Possible _."

Kim blinks away tears. "I don't know."

Betty's eye darkens and suddenly her corpse-like body lashes forward. Her left hand, with the last of its strength, grabs Kim at the groin and squeezes it like a vice. The move breaks Betty's own hand, the bones crack apart. The right hand pulls the gun away and bumps it back into her own jaw. Betty sneers.

"Please, don't," Kim chokes, Betty's bloody fist only tightening its hold on her.

"_ Ha, _boy," Betty says weakly. " _Did I do a number on you or what. _"

Bang.

Kim doesn't remember the next two minutes.

When she awakens , the pharmacy wing is destroyed. The shelves fall to pieces, pills scatter everywhere, and cold air sweeps in from outside. Kim guesses that it was these stupid powers that did it, they probably went off like a fucking bomb and leveled the room into dust.

Kim stands tall, ash and rubble rolling off the nightgown. She stands directly over Betty's corpse, the head black and busted open. Kim can't bear to look, her legs almost intertwined with the corpse's. She brushes herself off and tries not to look. She stumbles forward to get away and clutches her knobby knees. This is all so messed up.

Something about stepping into the light for the first time since she turned herself in makes this so real. But she looks the same as she did when she entered; people will never know about this.

Kim makes sure not to cut herself on any rubble as she steps out and feels a chilling breeze play with the hem of her nightie. She turns back to this boring white building she had been trapped in for months and laughs.

It must be August. Maybe even September. Ah yes. September. The colors in the tree are faded oranges and browns, but Kim is sure it was a beautiful autumn for New England as it always is.

Kim can go anywhere. Anywhere in the world.

Or can she?

Well for starters, she needs to find a place to live. Preferably not a homeless youth center, ideally an actual place where she has control. She also needs to keep transitioning, she needs to find Yori, and she needs to — resume her plans?

Kim isn't sure. She doesn't feel less sick than when she came into this stupid hospital, she knows that.

But Kim has Ron's powers, and a plan to take over the world. Apparently, it's a good plan, if Betty wanted to know it so badly.

If Kim wants to save the world, some heads are going to have to drop. It's going to get worse from here on out.

Kim looks at the gun in her hand. She actually killed someone. Well, she watched Betty kill herself but it wouldn't have happened without Kim's interference… agh.

Kim didn't even get to relish in it. It felt like anything else she's ever done.

She looks back to the mental hospital and leaves the gun in the dirt. There are police sirens off in the distance — she doesn't have a lot of time. Not with these skinny legs. No. Fuck that. She's strong, she won that back at least.

She sprints off into the distance, peeling behind buildings, and feels a familiar rush whip her hair off her shoulders. She laughs because it's fun.

Because Kim Possible's back and no one is going to stop her this time. Not even herself.


End file.
